


Twisted Paths

by VendelaP



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラX 月下の夜想曲 | Castlevania: Symphony of the Night
Genre: College AU, Daddy Issues, F/M, Love triangle drama, M/M, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, adrian is a rich boi, bisexuals, crushes and romance, eventual polyamory, ivy league college misfits, orphan issues, realistic fiction work, super smart adrian, sypha is a history nerd and loves college, themes of wealth and poverty, trevor plays hockey dont ask me why he has a sports scholarship, trevor was homeless but made it to college
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 210,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23989780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VendelaP/pseuds/VendelaP
Summary: Castlevania College AU/Realistic Fiction - eventual Trevor/Sypha/AlucardAfter being homeless, Trevor went back to high school and got a scholarship to go to an Ivy League university. There, he met Sypha, the strange and brilliant history major who became his best friend by happenstance. Now, Trevor and Sypha are in their second year of college when a mysterious, wealthy stranger throws them off their routine. Adrian Tepes is very unusual and there's something about him that gets under Trevor's skin. But no matter what, he can't get him out of his head.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Sypha Belnades, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 366
Kudos: 242





	1. Finals Season

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey! I had the idea for a college AU a while back and I really wanted to actually make it so here we go. Tell me what you think and let me know if you want me to continue!
> 
> I'm now 130,000+ words into this book and it is over halfway done.
> 
> NOTES: I created a website for this book! https://twisted-paths7.webnode.com/  
> Enjoy! There are photos of all the characters in my interpretation.
> 
> Things get better for Trevor eventually, okay? This is not a depressing book. Angsty? Yes. Depressing? No. Happy times will come, I promise. I'm not here to depress you. 
> 
> Adrian shows up in chapter three. He is the main character, and Dracula is a secondary character. He shows up later on.
> 
> Thank you for reading my story!

**Chapter One: Finals Season**

* * *

Trevor Belmont had never been one to think things through. He went with the flow, he rolled with the punches. He knew that life is hard, and anything but predictable, so he didn’t bother trying to be prepared. Which inadvertently made college life a bit of a struggle. 

The alarm blared above Trevor’s head. A groan, rough and sleep-deprived, came out of his throat before he could help it. He flipped around in the twin bed and slapped the alarm clock, adding in unnecessary force simply out of frustration. The morning light hurt his head already. A subtle throb began at the base of his skull, as it did far too often in the mornings.

  


“I should have never taken a damn nine am,” he grunted, shifting and pulling himself upright, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Trevor rubbed his bleary, slightly bloodshot eyes, and looked over the other side of the room, only to find his roommate missing. Sighing, he made his way to the small dorm bathroom. The room was all white tile and fairly messy, given its two male college-aged inhabitants. Nothing that bothered Trevor. What’s a little mess? Not a big deal. A dirty towel lay on the floor, which Trevor almost tripped on as he made his way to the sink. He quickly washed his face, brushed his teeth, and looked around for a comb. He searched around in the medicine cabinet. Toothpaste, floss, hair gel, condoms, aspirin. Nope. Must be missing. When he didn’t see his own comb, he just borrowed his roommates, quickly running it through his hair. In the mirror, he quickly checked his own reflection. Stunning ice eye blue eyes, brown slicked back hair, and a chiseled jaw. Belmont genes certainly weren’t something to complain about, looks-wise. After rooting around in his dresser for a decent shirt, he put on what was his only pair of jeans, which very well may have been due for a wash. Trevor had sniffed them quickly, and upon finding the smell bearable, shrugged and put them on hastily.

“Good enough,” he muttered, trying to rush to class so he could actually be on time for his first final. He grabbed his outdated phone to check the time. 8:50. Ten minutes left before class. He slipped on some socks and his dark red vans. After grabbing his laptop, backpack, and overworn coat, he was out the door. Trevor rushed to the social sciences building, gritting against the bitter morning cold. The campus was pretty full that morning because of finals, and Trevor wasn’t the only one rushing to get to his exam on time. He entered the building and made it to his class just before the doors closed. Breathing a sigh of relief, he pulled out his phone to check for any text messages. 

Sypha (1:08 am) - Hey, did you finish studying for your sociology final? Don’t forget, it’s tomorrow morning. 9 am sharp. Good luck!

Sypha (8:31 am) - Trevor Belmont, you better be getting up and getting your ass out the door. Remember you told me to make sure you don’t oversleep and miss your final?? Please text me so I know you didn’t sleep in.

Sighing, Trevor texted back, slouching down in his seat in the lecture hall.

Trevor (8:57 am) - I’m in class. I didn’t fucking forget. And yes, I studied… Thanks, mom.  
  
Sypha (8:58 am) - Do not call me mom! You’re the one who asked me to make sure you went to your exams and check up on you. So don’t give me that sass, Belmont. You’re so infuriating >:(

Trevor laughed. She was always a little spitfire. Despite the early hour, she made him smile.

"Phones away, please. Turn them off. We’re going to start now. You have two hours to complete the final. It’s seventy multiple-choice questions like we talked about…” The professor explained, distributing exams. Trevor tried his best. Some of the questions were easy, while others he really wasn’t prepared for. But that would probably be because he missed some of the lectures and definitely did not read the entire textbook. Oh well. After an hour and a half, he turned in the exam and headed out into the commons. It hadn’t snowed, but it looked like it might. The sky was overcast and breezy, pretty typical of upstate New York in December. Bare trees and old snowy patches lined the commons, the grounds interlaced with walking paths and cold benches scattered throughout.

  
A cold breeze blew over his shoulder and Trevor shuddered, pulling his hood up over his head. He let out a shaky exhale, watching students and professors make their way around campus. Gripping coffee cups, walking quickly, searching for the right testing buildings. The buildings on campus were old and well built, made from stone that could stand the test of time. They were beautiful really. The whole campus was. Trevor never, ever thought he would end up at college. And an Ivy League college at that? _Ha! If someone had told me three years ago that I would be going to Wallachia University, I would have laughed in their face._ He took out his cellphone to call Sypha.

  
“Hey. ‘Morning,” he greeted, his voice still a little low and grumbly. 

  
“Good morning to you too, sassy. What’s up? Are you out of class?” Sypha teased in her Spanish drawl.

  
“Yeah, I finished the final exam. It was okay. Not too bad,” he explained walking towards the cafeteria, dragging his feet a bit.

  
“Nice. Do you think you did well?” She asked. Trevor exhaled, hot breath fogging in the crisp morning air. A student rushed past him.

  
“Um, yeah, I guess. Good enough. Probably an A or a B,” he guessed, yawning.

  
“Good for you! I don’t have any until tomorrow. All I have today is a study group at seven, so I’m free until then.” 

  
“Okay, want to get some coffee, then? And breakfast?” He asked, walking into the cafeteria. It was a pretty big, well-funded college, and the meals were great. The best part of his free education, in Trevor’s mind.

  
“Yeah, I’ll meet you there soon. I’m just going to get my stuff, so we can study.” She sounded happy. How anyone could be happy during finals, Trevor couldn’t understand. Maybe she was just excited about breakfast.

  
"Bully,” he groaned sarcastically, but really he wasn’t that upset about it. Having Sypha as a friend made his life pretty great, considering. _And finals isn't so bad when you can have a hot cup of coffee and a warm bed to sleep in at night._ Trevor knew he shouldn’t complain, but it was just his nature to be that way. Anything else would be contrary to his personality. But Sypha knew him too well.

  
“Oh, shut up. It’ll be fun. If you’re nice, I’ll bring you beef jerky, for a snack,” she hummed in a sing-song voice. Trevor grinned at Sypha's voice and her tactics.

  
“Alright, alright, fine. I’ll be civil. Just get yourself over to the caf, Belnades.”

  
After finding a free table, which was difficult during finals, Trevor and Sypha got breakfast. For Trevor, a breakfast burrito with eggs, bacon, and veggies, hash browns, and a large cup of black coffee. Sypha got a bowl of oatmeal and an apple, with a cup of tea. Once they sat down to their meals, Trevor’s mood improved significantly.

  
“How late did you stay up? I saw that you texted me at one am,” Trevor commented, taking a sip of coffee.

  
“Yeah, pretty late. Till two-thirty. I was studying.” She picked at her oatmeal with her fork.

  
“Shit. That’s a lot of studying you do. I was too tired to study after my game, so I just took a shower and passed out.” Trevor shrugged. 

  
“Oh, yeah. I forgot to ask you, how was the game?” She looked up from her breakfast, watching Trevor go to town on the breakfast burrito. His lack of manners would gross her out, but by that point, she was used to it. They had been friends for almost a year. 

  
“Mhmm, it was fine. We won.” He mumbled in between bites. He ate like a starved man, every morning. Sypha guessed it was all the calories he burned playing hockey. 

  
“Good for you… Wait - did you lie to me before? When I asked you if you had studied?” She pretended to be angry, taking a bite from her apple.

  
“No, I didn’t lie to you," he groaned, "I studied before the game.”

  
“For what, a half-hour?” Sypha mocked in her Spanish accent, cocking her head to the side. Her blue eyes were sparkling. She was a very pretty girl. Trevor had thought that since the moment he met her. She had strawberry blonde hair in a pixie cut, a slim figure, and an interesting taste in clothing. Trevor had liked that. She certainly didn’t look like the other girls on campus. Probably, she would be considered a hippie in a way. Kind of odd, given the modern era. That morning she was wearing a faded blue T-shirt with a lotus symbol on it and the word namaste tied up around her waist, a brown coat, and a pair of multicolor paisley print flare pants. Her ears bore several different piercings. Usually, she wore some dangly ones and some small posts. Her backpack had about two dozen badges and buttons on it, which in Trevor’s words made her look like a damn Girl Scout. They were mostly political, or environmental, but there were also some funny ones. He liked the funny ones the most. Her reusable water bottle was the same way, full of stickers. She rarely wore makeup, but when she did it was striking. Bright red lipstick or emerald eyeliner. Sypha was definitely a risk-taker, fashion choices included. But Trevor thought she looked very nice. And he liked that she was different, and she didn’t wear the same basic sweatshirt, skinny jeans, and Uggs that most girls wore around campus. But even when she just wore a t-shirt and jeans, she was still a bit different. She carried herself differently, he thought. Probably because of her weird-as-hell upbringing. But then, who was he to talk?

  
“No, for more than that. Forty-five, maybe an hour, who’s to say?” He joked. Sypha almost looked like she was going to fling her oatmeal at him.

  
“Forty-five minutes? For your final? Are you fucking kidding me?” She accused, angrily chewing on her meal, challenging him with a glare that meant she wasn’t messing around.

  
“More like an hour. That was enough. I just went through my class notes. It’s mostly stuff from the lectures, anyway. I’ll be fine, I went to class a lot.” He added a packet of sugar to his black coffee, stirring it around.

  
“Okay, alright. I just don’t want you to get in trouble again. God forbid you lose your scholarship and get kicked out-” Sypha worried, eyes wide with concern.

  
“That’s not going to happen. It’s fine. I have good grades right now. A’s and B’s. Mostly B’s. But that’s okay, as long as I don’t get C’s, I’m okay. I won’t lose my scholarship, calm down. Jesus, you’re so nervous in the mornings.” He sat back in his chair.

  
“I just - I know I would be so mad at myself if I didn’t say anything and saw you get kicked out-”

  
“Not gonna happen. Promise.” He insisted, breaking apart hashbrowns. 

  
“It’s just that I know the guys usually go out to a bar after the games, and I wouldn’t want you to start drinking, and then oversleep…” she steeped her tea, looking over Trevor cautiously. 

  
“Mhmm. Didn’t go with them. Didn’t drink. Took the final. End of story.” Trevor was getting tired of this, but at the same time, he knew Sypha was right to be worried. His drinking did interfere with school sometimes. 

  
“Okay, well, let’s study today for our finals. We can go to the library, or the study room in your dorm, whatever you want.” She offered, waving at a friend of hers that was passing by. Sypha had a lot of friends. Trevor did not. Sypha was his main friend, and he knew other people, but they weren’t really close. He kind of liked his roommate, but his roommate didn’t really talk to him when he didn’t have to, and never invited him anywhere, so that was that. Sypha was his best friend and he was fine with that. Even if they did seem to be an odd match, who the fuck cared? They liked each other.

  
“Sure, the dorm study room is good. Then we can get snacks or whatever,” he finished his meal. Sypha agreed and they made their way there, spreading out their materials and studying together. After a couple of hours, Sypha agreed for a break to refuel on coffee. They went to the Starbucks on campus, Sypha with her reusable mug in hand. While they wanted in line, she berated Trevor about his lack of a mug.

  
“Hey, where’s the reusable mug I got for you? You didn’t bring it?” She pushed his arm.

  
“You know what, Sypha? I was homeless for three years. Think about all the electricity and water bills that I wasn’t using then, huh? All that energy I didn’t spend? I think, if you weigh it out, I already helped save the Earth so much, I don’t even need to use reusables?” Trevor responded, slightly sarcastically. Sypha rolled her eyes.

  
“I know being homeless was really hard. But that doesn’t excuse you for everything, Trevor,” she whispered. 

  
“Oh my god, you really are a hippie, Sypha. I can get one fucking to-go coffee cup, the Earth isn’t going to die for it. Promise,” he crossed his arms, sighing. Sypha challenged him with a stare that meant business.

  
“Okay, fine, I’ll bring the damn thing with me next time.”

A few days, and several late-night study sessions later, it was Thursday. Both of their finals had been going pretty well. Trevor had rushed on one of his papers but turned it in on time, so it was better than nothing. Both were somewhat sleep-deprived. Coffee and naps only did so much. Trevor had to study a lot because he usually didn't, and otherwise he would fail out of school. But Sypha studied because she loved it, and she had gotten straight As since elementary school. She had her history and psychology finals the next day, and Trevor had his political science exam and paper due. He had spent almost the whole night finishing it.

“If this bloody paper doesn’t get me an A, I swear to God I’m gonna punch him,” Trevor had moaned at three in the morning, slumped over his laptop in the study room with Sypha. 

  
“I bet you are! Now finish studying, so we can go to sleep.” She had her pajama pant clad legs up on the table as she went through her flashcards. She had hundreds of names and dates to remember. But she never had a problem doing well during finals. Studying came naturally to her. When they had gotten done as much as they could, they called it a night, and Trevor walked her to her dorm room. They walked down the campus sidewalk in comfortable silence. The cold was the kind that got bone-chilling at night, but he still walked her back to her room regardless. Wouldn't want some creep coming up to her or something this late. He felt the urge to hold her hand but resisted it. She wasn’t his girlfriend.

  
“So, what are you going to do during winter break?” She asked, peering over to him, her blue eyes slightly tired under the artificial streetlights. The question was loaded, and she said it carefully. He had no family to go back to, unlike her. No other friends to visit. No home.

  
“Oh, I talked with the pizza place in town, Joe’s. They need help in the kitchen, so I’m gonna do that. It’s minimum wage, but whatever. I need money. And I can stay at the dorms, no problem.” Trevor answered slowly, looking down at his feet. He tried not to sound sad about it. _Everyone else on campus is so lucky, really. Most of them go home over the holidays._ Trevor startled when Sypha touched his arm, stroking it sweetly. 

  
“That’s good. I’m glad you found work. Are you going to do it full time?”

  
“Yeah, as many hours as I can... it’s better than nothing,” he said, looking at the dorm building instead of down at Sypha’s adorable face. He would hate to look down and see pity there.

  
“I’m sorry I can’t have you out to my place. We would love to have you, but-” Trevor raised a hand to cut her off. Her grandpa, who raised her, lived in California, a five-hour plane ride away. Way too expensive a flight for Trevor to ever be able to afford.

  
“It’s fine. Don’t even think about it. I’ll give you a call at Christmas. Or - wait, do you guys celebrate?” He asked, unsure of all the weird customs of her family’s odd religious group. 

  
“Yeah, we do. I’ll FaceTime you. I can just set my phone down and you can see the whole Christmas party, watch me dance, whatever. It’ll be like you’re there. And I can take you to the beach…” She drifted off.

  
“Thanks. FaceTime isn’t the same as real life, though. You can’t feel the sand under your toes with FaceTime.” He muttered, wishing he could afford the five hundred dollar round trip flight. It would be great to walk with Sypha on the beach.

  
“Yeah. I’m sorry… Maybe you can save up this winter and come out to California with me this summer. You can get a job out there, learn how to surf. We could hang out all the time! You would love it. The beach is really great in real life,” Sypha proposed, smiling sweetly. Trevor decided to look down at her, and really, it was such a bad decision, because instantly he was overcome with a desire to kiss those perfect pink lips of hers. Her smile was infectious.

  
“Yeah, hopefully, I can.” He answered, devoid of his usual sarcasm. The shared smile went on a bit too long then, but Sypha ended it with a sweet kiss on his stubbly cheek. Trevor’s mouth parted inexplicably, looking down at her. She had never kissed him before, not even on the cheek. Sypha laughed sweetly and gave him a hug, leaving the poor man out in the cold as she made her way into the dorms.

  
“Goodnight, Trevor.”

**A/N: Please review!**

**Thanks for reading.**


	2. Winter Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor has a lonely winter break and is very happy when Sypha returns.

**Chapter Two: Winter Break**

* * *

A day later, finals were over. Everyone was in a rush to get off-campus. Trevor had been relieved to be done with finals, and passing his classes, but sad when everyone was leaving and going home for the holidays. Trevor didn’t like to think about it. He wished he could go with Sypha to the airport and see her off, but he honestly couldn’t even afford the two-way car trip. He sighed, saying goodbye to her as she got in her Uber and hugging her gently. His only real friend. She smiled, promising she’d call from California, and they parted ways. Trevor practically stomped his way back to his dorm. The first real snowfall was coming down, and he felt like shit. Trevor wasn’t sure where his relationship with Sypha was going, or where it stood. They were just friends for the moment, really. That was okay. Trevor knew he should be grateful, she was his first real friend, and he cared for her. But he wanted more. That was never something he would push, though. He would wait until she made it clear she wanted something else. And a kiss on the cheek is not an invitation for sex. So, Trevor relieved himself elsewhere. 

When he got back to his dorm room, he saw that his roommate had already left for the break. He checked his phone to see if he had texted he was going. Nope. Ah, but Trevor was used to people not liking him. _At least I have the place to myself_. He thought, taking off his coat. He cleaned up a little bit, sat in bed, and took out his phone. The outdated model didn’t look fancy but it was the best he could get. It had taken a lot of work to afford. He checked his Chase app, gritting his teeth as he did so.

ACCOUNT BALANCE: $43.29 

_Ugh, shit. That’s not good._ The cafeteria would be closed down for Christmas and the two days before. His first payday wouldn’t be for over two weeks, and he was almost out of cafeteria money for the semester. Groaning, Trevor pulled himself from bed and made his way to the cafeteria. He tucked several items in his coat. No one was looking, so he didn’t care. Chips, trail mix, beef jerky, and yakisoba. He actually purchased some more food with his cafeteria card, including ramen noodles. Not nutritious but much better than going hungry. Trevor was very grateful for his fully funded tuition and room and board, but they didn’t feed him over the breaks. He had to feed himself. When he ran out of cafeteria food, he would have to start buying food from the grocery store.

The next day he called Sypha before he went to work. She was on the beach, and told him all about her upcoming meditation retreat right after Christmas with her grandpa. Trevor hummed and ahhed but truthfully he didn’t give a shit about meditation. His problems were the kind you couldn’t breathe away. Or think away. Truthfully, Trevor had never even attempted meditation. He went to work that week, and it was fine. He tried not to reveal anything about his lack of a family. In fact, when his new coworkers asked how he’d be spending Christmas, he said at a friend’s place. Lying was easier than explaining the truth. On Christmas day itself, he couldn’t help but think of his family. As he sat at his little dorm desk and ate microwaved Yakisoba, he couldn’t help but think of a much different type of Christmas. One he had almost forgotten. With a full family, with parents and siblings and grandparents. It used to be his favorite time of year. His older siblings would get together and decide on what to make their parents for Christmas. 

They always made something instead of bought something. Sometimes it was a paper mache project, sometimes it was artwork or a project. His older sister was so creative. And his parents always loved it. Trevor would help out if he could, but he was too young to do much. On Christmas Eve, they would have a big party in their mansion. Trevor’s mother would decorate the whole house with garlands and wreaths and bows. The whole family put the tree together. The adults would eat appetizers and drink prosecco or wine. The kids would chase each other around the house, or play games together. They had any electronics they wanted and they would play Mario Kart or Doodle Jump. Trevor had his own little DS and he loved it. But not nearly as much as he loved playing next to his brothers. Later, they would all eat a great dinner made by his grandmother. The last year his family was alive, his grandfather had died, but that Christmas his grandmother still kept on, and she made the Christmas dinner. After Grandpa Ernest’s death, she moved into the spare room. Trevor remembered the way she smelled, like pine and caramel. His parents were always busy, working at the company, keeping the house, helping the kids. And on Christmas morning, he and his siblings would run down the stairs as soon as they woke up, almost tripping over each other. They would all open their presents on the living room floor together, Christmas music playing in the background. Trevor’s mother would make homemade cinnamon rolls and fresh orange juice. He would always get something great, and still, Trevor remembered his gifts. A toy truck, a robot dog, a book set, a kaleidoscope, a DS, a play car. He was pretty spoiled, actually, in his childhood. And Trevor remembered watching his parents sit happily next to one another, opening the gifts they bought for each other. They would always get the other something very personal, and perfect for them. Trevor knew they loved each other so much. It didn’t matter if it was expensive, it could just be an old memory or an inside joke. They always knew what to get for each other.

_All of that is in the past._

Trevor shook off the memory, trying not to let it seep in. He realized he hadn’t even gotten Sypha a present. And she hadn’t given him one either. They were both pretty broke, that’s why. Trevor took out his phone, pushing his Yakisoba away.

Trevor (6:42 PM) - Merry christmas, sypha

Sypha (6:43 PM) - Hey! Merry Christmas. Let’s FaceTime. I want to show you to my family and show you the party, okay?

Trevor sighed and accepted the call, waving awkwardly to her relatives and saying hi to her elderly grandpa, who still looked very healthy for his age. They were drinking white wine and eating, getting ready for the main meal. It was several hours earlier there. After the nice, but strange FaceTime call, Trevor laid in his bed. He stared up and the ceiling for god knows how long, and felt himself slipping back into depression. He tried to shake off the feeling, blasting some music and hopping in the shower for a steam. Maybe it would clear his thoughts. But it didn’t. He cried in the shower. In fact, he cried himself to sleep. 

The next day he went back to work and tried to focus himself on his job. He was mainly just working the cashier, but he had some other duties as well. He offered to stay late and work another shift. _For fuck’s sake, I need the money._ Trevor wanted to do deliveries but he had no car, of course. This went on for another two weeks: working all day, eating sad food in his dorm, working out in the dorm gym, and watching internet videos on his breaks. He already missed school, funny enough. And he missed Sypha. But Trevor knew that there was no guarantee that anything was going to happen with that, and they weren’t even dating or anything, so on his off day, he decided to relieve himself. 

Trevor opened his Tinder and swiped for a while, seeing if there was anyone who caught his eye. He had his profile set to bisexual. He never told anyone that, but he was. Sypha didn’t really know. He never told her, in case she would find it weird. There were a couple of cute girls and not too many cute guys. One woman he was chatting with said yes when he asked her out, so he took her to a restaurant. He had gotten his first paycheck, which wasn’t bad, so when she asked to get drinks after dinner he said yes. He had taken her to some Japanese place that was pretty new. She liked it. They drank in the restaurant bar and joked a little back and forth. Trevor didn’t know her, but he was horny and alone and so was she, so it worked. When he was pleasantly drunk, he asked her to come back to his place, she said yes. Trevor barely remembered what excuse he used for why he was living in the dorms, but she didn’t care. They were both eager and he fucked her on his extra long twin bed without another thought. She left afterward, of course. It’s not comfortable to sleep next to someone on a twin bed. He saw her off and took a shower. It had felt good, but his thoughts went back to Sypha afterward. Trevor almost felt guilty, like he was cheating on her or something, but of course, he wasn’t. But when he was in bed for the night, he couldn't help but text her to see how she was doing. They texted back and forth until he fell asleep. 

Another couple of weeks like that and soon enough, the spring semester was starting. Trevor was at his little desk, this time eating cereal and drinking coffee. He went into his Chase app, not so scared this time.

ACCOUNT BALANCE: $798.00

Trevor smiled. Hopefully, he would actually be able to afford to go to California in the summer for a visit. That became his goal after Sypha mentioned it, and instead of drinking it all away like usual, he decided to be frugal and try to keep his earnings in savings so he could go out there come June. His boss had agreed to let him work on the weekends during the school year. Trevor wasn’t sure he could keep that job during school, but he was going to try. He actually made a goal for himself to be organized this semester, so he was looking up his syllabi for his classes and putting them in his calendar. That way he wouldn’t forget when his papers were due. He put in his hockey games as well. Surprisingly, he felt pretty good about himself, which was a rare feeling. His phone rang.

“Hey, Sypha! Did your plane get in?” He asked, putting the phone to his ear.

“Yeah! I just landed. I’m gonna grab my bags and head back to campus. I don’t feel like getting unpacked right now, though. Do you want to grab a bite?”

“Sure! It’s on me. Do you want to get Chinese?” He asked, leaning back in his desk chair.

“Mmm… No, I want Pho. And spring rolls. Thanks for getting dinner. I can bring over some beers. I’ll pick them up at the corner store. Meet at your dorm?” She asked, a smile on her face that Trevor couldn’t see.

“How long until you get here?” 

“Twenty, twenty-five minutes, maybe?”

“Can’t wait.”

He hung up and looked around his room. Trevor’s roommate wasn’t moved in yet, so that was good they would have privacy. He sighed. His things were all over. Dirty clothes on the floor, overflowing trash in the basket, rumpled bedsheets. _Fuck._ He quickly scooped up his dirty laundry and put it in the basket. Upon realizing the heavy stenched of his unwashed gym clothes, he quickly took them downstairs and threw them in the wash. He called the Vietnamese place and ordered delivery, deciding to splurge because, well, it’s Sypha. Then he made his bed, cleaned his dirty desk, and sprayed a bit of his roommate's febreeze all over, hoping that would help.

Trevor (11:03) - Hey, when are you coming back

Tom (11:10) - tomorrow

When Sypha arrived, she hugged him close, and Trevor hugged her back. _Wow, that felt nice._ When they separated he kissed her on the cheek. She smiled. She wore a loose purple long sleeve shirt that hung off her shoulder and dark pants, with her little lace-up winter boots.

“It’s so good to see you. How are you?” She set down her little bag and sat on his bed. Trevor didn’t loft his bed, unlike his roommate. He hadn’t needed to loft his bed because he really didn’t have many things at all, anyway. Only the necessities. His side of the room looked kind of bare. In terms of possessions, he had very little. He had a few shirts, four or five. Two sweatshirts. A hoodie. A winter coat. Two pairs of sweatpants, a pair of jeans, and dress slacks for interviews. Well, the dress slacks didn’t actually belong to him, they were definitely stolen, but who would know that? The only other things he had were school things or sports gear. Nothing much for memories, really, when your family burned in a fire along with your house. The only thing he had that meant anything to him was his dad’s shirt, the one thing he still had, with Belmont Industries written across the chest.

On the wall, he had a few band posters he had scored for a couple of dollars at a thrift place with Sypha. AC/DC, Queen, and Nirvana. A little unoriginal, but he liked their music and he didn’t give a shit, so there they were. His bedding was just a basic pack from Walmart, navy, and a white throw blanket. The top of his dresser held his room key and whatever snacks he happened to buy or... find around campus. One small picture of him and Sypha at a frat party was on his desk, taped to the side where he could see it. They met one another at a frat party, randomly, and Trevor kept the photo as a memory ever since. He turned his attention to her.

“I’m doing alright. Glad to have had work during the break. Now I’m not quite at hobo status. Slightly above…” he joked, sitting on the bed next to her and leaning against the wall.

“Slightly above hobo status, how nice. Better than me, I’m pretty much broke. I need to get a job this semester.” She laughed, letting her head tip back. Her top was pretty low cut, and so much of her pretty neck was exposed. Trevor almost groaned at the sight but restrained himself. 

“How are you gonna do that with a double major?” He asked. She crossed her legs, looking at him.

“I don’t know. I’m probably not. I’ll just eat on campus and not buy anything, really. What’s the point in having lots of personal possessions, anyway? And campus food is good enough.” She played with the hem of her pants. Trevor smiled.

“Well, not today! Today we have some real, authentic Vietnamese, how about that? I ordered from that place Classic Saigon.” 

Sypha laughed.

“Authentic? This is upstate New York. What about that is authentic?” 

“I thought authentic meant, like, quality. Good quality,” Trevor scowled.

“You’re so funny. No, that’s not what it means. It means of origin from the place that it comes from, or from the people in the culture that make it. Real Pho would be made by Vietnamese people.” 

“So?” He raised a brow, looking at his phone. The delivery guy was outside.

“So, the people who run Classic Saigon are white,” she laughed.

“Oh. Well, I used to go starving. White impressions of Vietnamese food are better than no impressions at all. Suck it up,” he teased, getting off the bed. 

“You’re funny, Trevor. I missed you,” Sypha giggled, smiling at him. Trevor’s heart melted a little bit at that, and he stopped in his tracks. He ran a hand through his hair that definitely could use a cut. 

“I missed you too, Sypha.” They shared eye contact for a bit too long before he reminded her that the takeout was downstairs, and he went to get it.

The food was delicious. They ate on the rug on the floor and watched Breaking Bad on Trevor’s laptop. Trevor didn’t have a Netflix subscription, but Sypha had one so she logged on and they watched together.

“Wow, that’s a pretty stereotypical drug-dealer character. Jesus,” Trevor laughed, slurping at his soup.

“Who? Jessie?” She asked. 

“Yeah. That’s what people who have never met a white drug dealer think white drug dealers are like,” he critiqued. She made a face.

“Really? I mean, I’ve only ever known weed dealers. Not meth dealers…”

“Yeah, that makes sense. In Cali. Well, white meth dealers aren’t like this. Not in real life.” Trevor commented. He put his soup down on the floor.

“Oh. I didn’t… Trevor, did you used to do meth? When you were living on the streets?” Sypha looked seriously concerned, watching him with careful eyes.

“No. I did some drugs though, from time to time. But no, not meth.” Sypha nodded, thinking about it. The most she had ever done was smoke pot. 

“Oh, I almost forgot. I got you a bubble tea,” he reached into the bag and pulled out her drink.

“Really? Aw, thanks! I love those.” She held it up, looking at the tapioca.

“I know.” He remembered that from a long time ago.

“What kind is it?” She asked, looking at the light pink color.

“I don’t know. I just said something fruity with the pearls in it and he sent that.” Sypha laughed, drinking the boba happily. She groaned in pleasure.

“Lychee! It’s so good! Thanks, Trevor. I’ve got to pay you back some time. This was so nice.” She smiled, sitting next to him as they watched the show.

“No need.” He edged a little closer, liking the feeling of her warm shoulder up against hers. It was so nice having her back in town, he couldn’t even put it into words. _What was my life before her? Was it even a life at all?_

“Do you want another fried spring roll?” She asked, dipping into the takeout box. He accepted. They watched the rest of the show in companionable silence, and when they finished the food, Trevor suggested moving to the bed for the next episode. He put his pillows against the wall and put his laptop on the other side. Sypha scooted forward, curling into him, and Trevor wrapped his arm around her.

“It’s cold. Can we use your blanket?” She asked, pulling it up onto their laps. Trevor sighed when she settled herself against him, ever so slightly. Her hair smelled like coconuts and summer sunshine. Her body was small but warm, and he thought he might just melt into the bed. He leaned closer, taking in a breath. Sypha turned around suddenly, facing him. Trevor got excited. Her lips were so close, so cute. _Does she - does she want me to kiss her?_ Before he could decide anything, she blurted out,

“Did you just smell my hair?” Trevor let out a breath. That wasn’t what he had thought she would say. _Shit. I really can’t pick up signals._

“Ah- sorry. Was I not supposed to?” He asked, and she laughed, turning back around.

“No, it’s fine. Does it smell good?” She asked, sinking back against him.

“Yeah, like coconuts...” He answered, and they let the rest of the afternoon drift away in bed.

  
**A/N: Please review! That's all I ask :)**


	3. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor and Sypha make a new acquaintance.
> 
> **In case there is confusion, Dracula's company is CTC (Castlevania Tech Company) and Trevor's parents owned Belmont Industries. **

  
Chapter Three: First Impressions

* * *

On the first day of classes, Trevor and Sypha got breakfast together, as usual. For the spring semester, they planned to have a class together: computer programming. Neither really wanted to take the course, but it was a university requirement, so they thought they would take it together. Both sat in the cafeteria hall in a booth, backpacks laid out beside them. Sypha was looking over the syllabus as she sipped on her tea. Trevor was much more focused on finally having good meals again. He had loaded his plate with eggs, hash browns, and a slab of Canadian bacon. He had a cup of fruit on the side and another that he stole for a snack later on. Sypha had toast and jam. She was never as hungry as him in the morning. 

  
“Are you excited to have classes again?” She asked, flipping over a page in the syllabus.

  
“Yeah. I guess. It’s nice to hang out with you, anyway,” Trevor admitted biting a piece of fruit and looking at Sypha, who smiled at him. He wanted to pinch her cheeks.  


“I feel the same.” She went back to looking at her syllabus. Trevor looked at her for a while, just drinking in the sight of her after being away for so long. He put down his fork and finished chewing.  


“You, uh - You look really pretty today,” he commented, slouching a bit in the booth. Sypha locked eyes’ with him, slightly shocked. He never usually gave compliments to her obviously.  


“I mean - you always look pretty! Just today, I mean- you, you look good. In the outfit and the,” he gesticulated somewhat awkwardly to show he meant her dangly earrings.  


“Thank you! How sweet... You look nice, too,” she reciprocated, looking over his clothes. Trevor had gone to the mall at the end of winter break and actually purchased a new shirt and a couple of pairs of pants. Most of which he had paid for. He was wearing a new black v-neck t-shirt and olive green jogger pants, with his old black tennis shoes. For once, his outfit actually was somewhat decent. He had wanted to look nice on the first day. Definitely not to impress Sypha, just, to seem put together.   


“You look nice in black, really. It makes your eyes stand out,” she thought out loud. Trevor smiled shyly and went back to his meal. Sypha enjoyed her toast, humming a little. There was a lot of commotion in the cafeteria, and almost every table was filled. People were catching up, meeting new friends, and eating breakfast. Trevor actually liked the commotion, and he felt much better than he had in the previous weeks.  


“Do you have a game this week?”   


“Yeah, on Friday night. Wanna come? We could go to a bar afterward.” He asked. She tilted her head to the side.  


“I’m sorry, Trevor. I made plans to go out with Janna and Elliot. Next time?” She asked, and Trevor nodded. _She already has plans?_  


“How are your friends?” He asked. Trevor had only met them a couple of times. He picked at his bacon.  


“Um, they’re good I think. We texted a little over the break. But I was kind of focused on my friends in Cali when I was out there. And you.”   


“You always have so many friends. Everyone likes you… can’t relate.” He looked away, out at the sea of college students, most of whom he had never even talked to. Sypha probably knew half of them.  


“Hey, not everyone hates you. And if they do, it’s probably because you’re kind of rude when you meet them and they get turned off.”  


“I’m not rude. I’m nice to everyone,” Trevor protested, raising his chin up.  


“Then why have you punched not once, not twice, but three separate times at college parties?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Trevor pursed his lips, remembering the instances.  


“Because everyone else is a horrible piece of shit.”   
Sypha and Trevor broke out laughing and Sypha finished off her tea.  


“Oh, Trevor, guess what? Yesterday, when I was volunteering, I met this really, really hot guy. Like - the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.” Trevor’s smile vanished. _The hottest guy she’s ever seen?_ He went still, trying to not act obviously disappointed. Trevor’s thoughts ran all over the place. He wondered if she was just trying to be funny or if she was serious. _Does she even like me at all?_ Trevor wondered, angry and disappointed all at once.   


“What guy?”   


“Oh, his name is Adrian. Isn’t that a beautiful name? Anyway, he was volunteering with me at the food bank. He dropped off these two huge crates of food, and then he volunteered for a while. He’s just stunning. Totally gorgeous. Blonde hair, tall... He seemed nice too, but kind of serious.” She recalled the memory from yesterday, while Trevor fantasized about grabbing ahold of this asshole and punching him in the pretty blonde head. He nodded, pretending to be okay with it.  


“So, did he ask you out?” Trevor wondered, looking down at his food, appetite gone. He didn’t know if he would be able to compete with pretty boys who volunteer at food shelves.  


“No. This guy is model quality. I don’t know if he would be interested. He seemed like he was really rich, too. He probably sees me being underneath him,” Trevor’s eyes went wide.  


“Or - poor, I mean! Not beneath him, not like underneath him, in bed or anything. Just, you know- lower class. Lower class than him,” Sypha tried to fix her previous statement, her tone rushed and awkward. Trevor rolled his eyes and looked away. _One meeting and she’s already thinking about sleeping with him._ That was obvious enough already. Trevor gritted his teeth.  


“You like him,” Trevor was going to ask it as a question, but it came out more like a statement of obvious disappointment. Sypha’s mouth fell open.  


“What? No. I just-”  


“Oh come, on. It’s obvious you’re thinking about sleeping with him. That was a Freudian slip,” Trevor accused, pointing his fork at her. Sypha raised her brows in shock and crossed her arms. Trevor sort of glared at her, leaning his elbow on the table in a challenge.  


“Yeah, I know what things are! Don’t be so surprised! I took psych 101. You’re thinking about fucking him.” Sypha looked up at the ceiling, annoyed. She huffed.  


“Don’t be so crude. And no, of course not. We just talked for a couple of minutes. I barely even spoke to him. Besides, he seemed like he might be gay. I don’t know anything about him. All I know is he said he goes to school here, so who knows, maybe we’ll see him around.” Sypha smiled.  


"Dear God, I hope not.”

* * *

An hour later they were seated in the large lecture hall. The room was wide, the desks arranged in ascending rows, each higher than the last, like a theater. The professor was getting set up down below, and students were all filtering in and intermingling.   


“This is a big class,” Sypha muttered, looking around.  


“Well, it’s a requirement, so yeah. Everyone has to take it.”  


The class began, and everyone took out their laptops to take notes. They went over the syllabus and the basic requirements for the course. Trevor was already a bit bored. He didn’t really love computers, or coding at all, despite his family’s background in tech. He enjoyed doing things hands-on more than typing away at a computer.   


“Now, I’m going to do something a little different. If you have any experience in coding, please raise your hand. That way I can get a feel of who is experienced here,” the professor instructed, and some of the class raised their hand.  


“Alright, about a third,” the lanky professor walked back to his laptop, which was projected on the screen.  


“Okay, those of you who said yes, I want to try something. Can anyone tell me what the problem is with this code? And how to fix it?” He asked, projecting some very complicated python programming on the screen. The giant class was silent for a minute as everyone looked over the code. Trevor didn’t even know what program it was.   


“Raise your hand if you think you know the answer.” He challenged, looking over all the students in the lecture hall for someone brave enough to answer. Trevor looked around. One solitary hand went up, in the middle back of the rows.   


“Oh, in the back. Please stand up.” The professor squinted to get a look at the student. Trevor and Sypha turned to see who it was. 

Adrian stood calmly, silky blonde hair falling over his shoulder as he did so. When Trevor took him in for the first time, he was so in awe, so enamored, he couldn’t get himself to look away.  


“Hey, that’s him. The guy I met volunteering,” Sypha whispered in his ear. Plenty of other students were whispering, gossiping about him among themselves. He was tall, slender, and almost ethereal in appearance. His hair flowed over his shoulder and down his back in elegant waves, reflecting in the light. His youthful face was perfectly shaped, angular, and positively beautiful. His eyes were so light they looked like gold. His skin was very pale, almost translucent. He wore an immaculate long sleeve white turtleneck cashmere sweater, black pants with a belt, and small gold earrings. Everything about him was perfectly pressed, clean, and smooth. Trevor stared, awestruck, as he started explaining the problem in the code.  


“The problem is the inheritance in the init method,” he answered. His voice was the kind that was soft and serious, and yet everyone would listen to it. Quiet strength. Trevor had no idea what the guy was talking about, but he listened with rapt attention anyway, as everyone did. His beauty drew people in like a magnet.  


“Explain,” the professor prompted, nodding.  


“The init method is similar to constructors in C++ and Java. Constructors are used to initialize the object’s state. The task of constructors is to initialize and assign values to the data members of the class when an object of class is created. Like methods, a constructor also contains a collection of statements that are executed at the time when the object is created. It’s run as soon as an object of a class is instantiated... So, the parent class constructor is called first. But in Python, the parent class constructor doesn’t always have to be called first. The order in which the init method is called for a parent or a child class can be changed around. This can simply be done by calling the parent class constructor after the body of the child class constructor. So, in order to fix the code, you either need to call the parent class constructor first or call it after the body of the child class constructor. In this code, it hasn’t been called yet,” Adrian explained eloquently, his voice smooth and very naturally elegant.

Intelligence seemed to come off him in waves. Trevor watched him the whole time. He watched his perfect lips move, his hands gesticulate, his eyes focus on different places. He couldn't help it. The man was ungodly beautiful. Trevor couldn’t help it, he wanted to kiss him. Lust was pumping through his veins like a drug, exciting him. All sorts of thoughts started running through his head, some hitting him a little below the belt. _Is he gay?_ Honestly, it was hard to tell with this guy, he was one of those guys that could be gay or just really, really rich. The jewelry could mean he was gay, but it could also just mean he’s really smart, or artistic, or European. He looked Eastern European, or Northern, perhaps. _Norwegian? No, maybe Romanian or Russian._

“...That’s correct. You seem to have a good grasp of Python. Have you taken a programming class before?" A silence passed.

"No." He almost seemed ashamed or embarrassed somehow.

"What’s your name?” The professor asked, a little perplexed. Everyone had their eyes on the young, beautiful genius. Everyone was curious to know him.

“Adrian… Tepes.” For a minute, Trevor had wondered if this is what falling in love was like. And then that horrible, awful, despicable last name came out of his mouth. A name that made Trevor want to vomit or possibly slam his head into the desk. _Tepes?!_ Trevor hoped, prayed that he was hearing things. Surely this wasn’t a real Tepes, _an actual spawn of that evil, heartless, bastard-_  


“Vlad Dracula Tepes is your father, I take it,” the professor surmised, clasping his hands behind his back. Adrian nodded. People began to whisper about him, the son of the eccentric tech company billionaire.  


“Yes.” Trevor thought about throwing his laptop at the man from his seat. _But could that even wipe the little smirk off his stupid face?_  


“I see. Your father probably taught you about coding, right?” Adrian nodded again, and whispers erupted in the large lecture hall. He seemed used to having everyone’s eyes on him.   


“So he’s Dracula’s son? The owner of CTC? I had no idea,” Sypha muttered to Trevor under her breath. The Castlevania Tech Company, otherwise known as CTC, was worth billions. Most of the phones and computers on the market were CTC, and it seemed that each year they put out better and better models. Years back they had surpassed Apple and Microsoft. People exalted their technology, saying it was the way of the future. Trevor would never own anything from CTC until the day he died.   


“Fucking bastard,” Trevor whispered, perhaps a bit too harshly. Sypha scowled at him because a few other students in the vicinity heard the not-so-secret insult.  


“Alright, so what I want to do is give students at every level of coding ability a challenge. Another thing I want to work on is teambuilding and creative problem-solving. This is the Ivy League, and you came here for a challenge, yes? So, those of you who raised your hand and said you’re experienced with coding, you’re going to be project leaders. I want you to sort yourselves in groups of three. Try to get one experienced coder and two newbies in your group. Tonight, I’ll send out the project assignments. You’ll be working together to create a website from scratch. This will be a big part of your grade, so take this seriously. You can’t pass without completing this. And yes, you’re going to have to work outside of class to get this done. I’ll put the instructions online after class. Your first task is due next week. Okay, I’m going to end class here today, so now I want you to try to sort into groups, alright?” Everyone started talking at once, moving around, and trying to find partners. Sypha’s hand shot up in the air and she started waving it around.  


“Adrian? Hey! Adrian, do you remember me? We met yesterday! Do you want to work with us?” She called out to Adrian, who was sitting in the middle section. Everyone else was avoiding him. Most people hated a proud genius when they met one, especially in a classroom environment, but those types of things didn’t faze Sypha one bit. She wouldn’t even think about people that way. Trevor wished he didn’t know Sypha at that moment. He wished he wouldn’t be dragged into any conversation with that douche of a man. Adrian walked over to Sypha and Trevor, who were in the side row. Even moving through the crowded lecture hall, he was as elegant as an ice skater. Trevor was gritting his teeth. _This rightful bastard. Stuck up son of a bitch._  


“Hey, Sypha. Of course, I remember you. I didn’t know I would be seeing you here… Have you ever done computer programming before?” He asked, standing next to her, slipping his smooth black backpack over his shoulder. She shook her head.  


“Nope. I have no idea. Trevor here doesn't know coding, either. But we can figure it out. Will you work with us?” She asked, smiling sweetly, heart earrings dangling all over the place. A small smile rose on Adrian’s face. Trevor looked him over, much more closely this time, and with much more scrutiny. Dracula’s son. For fuck’s sake. The guy stank of wealth and importance. Trevor was poor all his teenage years and had a good amount of experience with petty thievery, so he was accustomed to determining valuables. With a speculative gaze, his blue eyes roamed Adrian’s lithe form. A Gucci belt, Cartier watch, Cartier ring, and some sort of designer backpack. Probably ten grand all together just in accessories. This is the kind of guy he used to steal from. A string of expletives ran together in Trevor’s mind.  


“Oh, yeah. I’ll work with you... That sounds great.” He was smiling now too. Trevor refused to look at his perfect face, looking down instead at his ridiculously shiny, horribly ostentatious Chelsea boots. Trevor felt the sudden urge to spit on them. If he was still homeless, he would have. But this was the Ivy League and that definitely wasn’t allowed, so instead, he stared at the man, hard, and offered him a challenging glare.   


“Hello. I’m Adrian Tepes. What’s your name?” He asked, extending a hand. Trevor shook it, hard, smiling through gritted teeth.   


“Trevor… Belmont.” He emphasized the last name, his expression almost feral. Adrian scowled, dropping the handshake. Trevor could see the gears turn in his head.   


"Belmont? Are you… are you Jeremy Belmont’s son?” He asked quietly, perplexed, looking over Trevor’s cheap clothes and handsome face. Trevor tilted his head to the side.  


“Yes, I am. In the flesh. What, did you think all us Belmonts were dead?” He sneered, standing up.  


“Well, yes, actually.”  


“Sorry to disappoint, asshole,” Trevor said, stuffing his old laptop into his bag.  


“Hey, hey, what’s with the attitude?” Sypha whispered, urging Trevor to be quiet. There were people overhearing. She didn’t know the half of it.  


“Oh, nothing. It’s just that this guy’s dad is a horrible, self-righteous, malicious prick, and he should probably be rotting away in a jail cell right now, but he isn’t, because my whole family conveniently died before they could testify against him.” Trevor was a blunt man, and so were his words. Adrian’s golden eyes went wide, his thin form stiffening.   


“Trevor, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He seemed sincere, but Trevor didn’t buy it. Not from a fucking Tepes.  


“Oh, really? You really want me to buy that?” _Dick._  


“Come on, let’s talk outside,” Sypha urged, trying to drag the boys out of the lecture hall before they started swinging at each other. When they were behind the building and away from prying eyes, Trevor started to go off.  


“Do you really want me to buy that sorry excuse? You didn’t know? Fuck you.” Adrian stepped back, hands up.  


“Woah! Alright, I’m not sure exactly what you’re insinuating, Trevor, but I barely know anything about your family. I know that Belmont Industries and CTC were both competing in the same markets for a while and that your family died in a fire. That’s it. I heard that it was an accident. I was only eight or nine years old when it happened. I barely remember it. How could I possibly be guilty of whatever you’re accusing me of?” Adrian asked, offended. Trevor pointed a finger at him, willing himself not to punch the beautiful man in the face and the gut until he passed out.  


“My family had their reputations ruined… wrongfully, because of lies perpetrated by your father. That’s why they were trying to sue him for slander. Just when Belmont Industries started to top CTC, and the sales started increasing, our company started having all sorts of problems all of a sudden. Employees leaking information, info breaches, you get the picture. My father suspected Dracula, your father, who was the main competition, for doing all of this. So he and my mother started working together with their lawyers to file a lawsuit against him. They even hired a private investigator to look into it, and two weeks later, when I was at a sleepover, my whole family ‘mysteriously’ died in a fire with no known cause.” Adrian scowled deeply, not liking what Trevor was insinuating. Sypha gasped, never having heard the whole story before. Trevor was so angry he was shaking, recalling the memory.  


“My parents were young, and so they didn’t set up a will or a plan for who would get the company. If they did it was burned in the house. One of the partners got it, and he mismanaged the hell out of it, and no one could handle it because they weren’t prepared for it, so they went under. I was eleven, I couldn’t run it. My oldest sister was supposed to be next in line to run the company, but she died in the fire, too. Everyone did. My parents, my five siblings, my grandmother, my only aunt. They all died… For what, your father’s fucking pride? For his tech company? To have the lions share? To get Belmont Industries out of the picture? What?!” Trevor exploded, letting out all of his frustrations and the theory that he had been working on for years. A heavy and deeply uncomfortable silence passed between the trio.  


“Trevor, I am deeply sorry for what has happened to your family and I hope you can believe me when I tell you I mean no ill will towards you. My father certainly wasn’t friendly with the Belmont’s because they were the competition, but I was a small child. I don’t know anything of that, really. And this… this conspiracy theory that you’ve created, out of pain, isn’t going to help anyone. Please don’t judge me for something that I’ve never done. I don’t even know you.” Trevor watched him, mouth set in a grimace. Sypha nodded, walking over to Trevor.  


“It’s horrible. It is. But you have no proof that it happened, and I think that if something that crazy would have happened, then the police would have looked into it,” she said, rubbing his back, trying to comfort him. Trevor was silent.  


“Don’t project your hatred for his father onto him. You don’t know him. Give each other a chance…” she pleaded, soothing him. Trevor looked to her, her sweet features melting him. He took in a deep breath and let it go. He had more to say but she was right, there was no proof.  


“Fine. But this doesn’t mean I trust you. Not at all.”  


“That’s okay. We’re just working on a group project together, it really doesn’t require much trust. Will you be civil enough for that? Or-?” Adrian raised a perfect blonde eyebrow.

Sypha made a face at him that meant he better be civil. Trevor hated everything again. The world was a horrible, awful place once again. He groaned loudly.  


“Fine.”

**A/N: Just leave a comment, please! Or a kudos if you liked it.**


	4. First Study Group Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor, Sypha, and Adrian have study group. Complications are bound to arise.

Chapter Four: First Study Group Session

* * *

The next Saturday, Trevor awoke to a very annoying string of text messages on his phone. The damn thing buzzed so many times he got nervous, forcing himself to wake up and see what was so important this early. In all fairness, he had gone out drinking with his hockey team after his game the night before, and was definitely slightly hungover, so that made it all the worse.

Sypha (12:08 pm) *Sypha has created a chat: study group ;) *

[ study group ;) ]

Sypha (12:09 pm) Hey guys! This is Sypha :) I made a group chat so we can plan when to study and work on the CP project… Adrian did I get your number right?

Adrian (12:13 pm) Hi. Yeah, you got it right. Thanks for making the chat, Sypha.

Sypha (12:30 pm) No problem! I’m free on Saturday. When do you want to have our study group tomorrow? 

Adrian (12:32 pm) I’m free to meet in the daytime. 

Sypha (9:30 pm) Great. I think Trevor’s focused on his game today so he might not answer for a while. 

Adrian (9:45 pm) Sounds good. Do you want to go to a cafe? I know a really nice place downtown. It has lots of plug-ins, good wifi, and great coffee.

Sypha (9:46 pm) Awesome ;) let’s meet tomorrow at 11

Sypha (8:58 am) Morning! Adrian, what's the place you want to go to called?

Adrian (9:01 am) Good morning. We can go to this coffee shop called Aroma Espresso, on 34th street. 

[ CTC maps: 121 34th Street, Rochester, NY ]

Sypha (9:03 am) Sweet. Let’s do this! I’m excited to learn about coding and everything, it sounds interesting :)

Adrian (9:10 am) I’d be happy to teach you what I know. 

Sypha (9:20 am) Trevor, you up yet? Hm??

Sypha (9:34 am) I don’t know if he’s going to wake up for a while. We can just meet at the cafe, and he can join us when he wakes up

Trevor (9:45 am) I’m up. Jesus. Coming soon

_Who types in perfect grammar? God this guy is a prick._

Trevor groaned, getting up and rubbing his eyes. Tom, his roommate, was passed out on the other side of the room in bed, leg dangled over the mattress. He drank some water and took a hot shower. He couldn’t believe it. They hadn’t even started the group and it seemed like Adrian and Sypha were already flirting. Worry filled his head with all sorts of unhappy predictions. Sypha and Adrian flirting, ignoring him, kissing, fucking, falling in love, getting married, and forgetting all about him. _Ugh. Sexual politics._

After getting ready and grabbing his backpack, he made his way to the coffee shop. He took a few tums before he left to calm his stomach. He had drunk quite a lot the night before, and he was still feeling woozy. It was cold still, but sunny at least. The coffee shop was situated on a corner in the downtown area, with large windows to let in the morning light. _Of fucking course._ His headache was just going to get worse, probably. He stepped inside, and the warmth of the cafe was a relief. The air inside smelled like espresso, sugar and warm bread. It didn’t turn Trevor’s stomach, which he was grateful for. He looked around the place for Sypha. The place wasn’t too big, but it was filled with small wooden tables, hanging plants, and modern decor. It had a pretty calm atmosphere, lofi playing softly overhead. Several of the tables were already taken, people talking and working on their laptops. Over in the corner, he spotted none other than Adrian fucking Tepes. 

_Who the fuck-? Who looks like that?_ Trevor practically glared at him, where he was sitting at the corner table of the cafe. The morning sun made his golden mane practically glitter. The man’s ridiculously voluminous, long and shiny hair flowed over his shoulders and down his back. He was wearing a loose burgundy button-down, which was rolled up to his elbows. Underneath he was wearing a black high necked cotton shirt, with a golden chain and lock necklace laid over top. Black tight pants again, only this time he was wearing an even more ridiculous pair of shoes. The ostentatious pair of black velvet loafers with gold floral embroidery looked like they belonged to royalty. Trevor scowled at the man, who was typing away at his laptop. _Does this guy think he’s a fucking prince? God._ Trevor sighed and called out his name. Adrian looked up and took out his earbuds.

“Oh. Good morning, Trevor. I didn’t know if we’d actually see you today.” Adrian watched him shed his coat and put it on the back of a chair. 

“I said I was coming, didn’t I?” He grunted, taking out his laptop. _This is already weird._

“Did you already get started?” Trevor asked, looking at Adrian’s open laptop. 

“Uh, no. I was just writing a lab report.” He didn’t say any more, and Trevor didn’t ask. 

“Did Sypha text saying she’d be late?” Trevor asked, scowling and refusing to sit next to the Tepes for the time being. Adrian looked him up and down. His hair was messy, and his ice-blue eyes tired. He was wearing the old Belmont Industries shirt that belonged to his father on purpose. Adrian blinked at the sight of the outdated logo.

“Uh, no. She didn’t. She’s only a couple minutes late, she’s probably on her way.” Trevor nodded.

“I’m gonna get a coffee.” He went to the counter and ordered a black coffee and a bagel. When he turned, Adrian was standing right behind him. Trevor swore under his breath. 

“Jesus Christ, are you sneaking up on me?” He took a step back from the strange teenager, leaning away from him like he was a creeper.

“No,” he rebuked, calmly walking forward to order, “one medium cappuccino, please. And a seitan energy bowl for here.” 

“What the hell is that?” He asked when they were walking back to their seats. 

“It’s just eggs and vegetables with seitan- fake meat.” He took out a folder from his backpack. Trevor was relieved to see Sypha come towards their table.

“Good morning, boys. So sorry I’m a little late. The bus was behind schedule,” she said, breathing a little heavily. Sypha took off her coat, relieving a yellow fuzzy sweater and a light blue mini skirt with tights underneath. She shook out her short hair, and both Trevor and Adrian couldn’t keep their eyes off her. 

“Don’t worry about it, it’s not a problem. Good morning.” Adrian smiled as he took out some papers, and she smiled back. _Great,_ Trevor thought, _it’s starting already._

“Did you already order?” She was positively beaming, healthy skin gleaming in the morning light. They nodded. She left and came back, chai tea latte and muffin in hand.

“Yum. This smells so good. Thanks for the recommendation, Adrian. I love this place. I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.” She took a sip of tea. Adrian leaned back.

“Anytime. You’re welcome.” Trevor rolled his eyes. Once they had all gotten their food, they started to talk about the project. 

“So I’ll send you the parts of the code that you need to work on. I’ll try to divide it evenly between us three. The professor sent us everything we need to do. I can help explain things if they seem challenging. Python isn’t too bad, though, so it should be too difficult.” Trevor looked over everything of Adrian’s: his brand new, glossy computer and perfect, thousand dollar phone, his expensive watch, his little gold earrings. A thousand dollar Cartier gold band on his thin, perfectly smooth hand. Everything about him was expensive. Perfect. Polished. Beautiful. Trevor then looked over his own things. His laptop was old, dusty, and barely working. He got it on eBay. His phone was cracked in the corner and two models behind. His shirt sleeve was fraying a bit, and his hands were cracked because it was the middle of winter and he didn’t really bother to put on lotion. Suddenly, a wave of jealousy or shame rolled over Trevor, and he didn’t feel good about himself anymore. The excitement he had felt at the beginning of the week was fading away. _Why would Sypha choose me when Adrian, Mr. Perfect Prince is right beside me?_ Said prince looked up from his laptop, pretty eyes gleaming. 

"...Do you have gold eyes?” Sypha blurted out suddenly, tilting her head to the side, looking at the mysterious man. Adrian huffed, shifting.

“Oh, yeah. I do. Some people have eyes that are so light, they look gold. It’s kind of rare, but it happens. Blue eye colors were once a mutation, too…” he answered, sipping his cappuccino. 

“How interesting. Well, they’re beautiful. I bet you hear that a lot,” she complimented. Trevor wanted to pull out his own hair when Adrian smiled and practically blushed.

“Thanks. You have nice eyes, too,” he complimented meekly, smiling a bit.

“Okay, alright. Enough chit chat. Let’s get this done, please. Quickly-I want to go back to bed,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Adrian whispered just so people at other tables couldn’t hear it. Trevor wanted to punch him again. _Who could be so fucking put together on a Saturday morning?_

“He’s hungover. Sorry about that. Trevor has a bit of a,” she quieted into a harsh whisper that anyone could hear nearby, “drinking problem.” Trevor made a low noise in his throat that meant he would be punching her too if she wasn’t a woman.

“Oh, I see... uh, Trevor, do you want an aspirin? Or… sunglasses?” Adrian asked, and Trevor sat upright to look the man in _his stupid, glittery gold eyes._

“I don’t think people have gold eyes,” Trevor said randomly, looking at him up close. Adrian startled, scowling a bit and looking at Sypha.

“They’re just an extremely light version of hazel. It’s not a big deal. Your eyes are a very light shade of blue, any lighter and they would look white, almost. People have different variations,” he said dismissively. Trevor looked at him for a moment, thinking.

“Do you wear contact lenses to change the color? I slept with this girl once, almost fell in love with her the night before because of her gorgeous big green eyes. They were fucking sparkly, I swear. Then I slept with her, and in the morning, when she was getting ready to leave I looked at her and I realized that her eyes were brown. Plain Jane brown. She told me she wore contact lenses to change the color. I didn’t even know that existed. Fooled me…” Trevor recalled, sipping his coffee. Sypha laughed a little, taking a bite of her muffin. Adrian looked like he was already fed up with this man. He leaned forward.

“Well, my eyes are really gold, I don’t wear contacts, and I’m definitely not going to sleep with you. So don’t worry about getting fooled…” Adrian smirked, and Sypha burst into laughter, which only made him smirk more. Trevor clenched his teeth and his hands.

“Listen, you Tepes bastard. I’m not any more thrilled about having to do this project with you than you are. So why don’t we all just shut up, and get this over with?” Trevor’s voice was low and dangerously quiet, and Adrian looked away from him.

“Sypha, you’re going to take the first section. I put it in the Google Doc and made headings for you so you don’t get lost. I put in a couple of Youtube links in case you need the topics explained again. You can always try geeksforgeeks.com if you're confused. Or, you can just call me, I’d be happy to help you. Trevor, you’ll be taking the second section of coding, that…” 

After a while of learning to code and eating their respective breakfasts, Sypha started getting inquisitive, and talkative like always. Adrian was working on finishing the outline, and Trevor was trying to understand what a loop even meant. 

“Do you live in the dorms, Adrian?” She asked, looking at him and his outfit.

“No, I live off-campus. In an apartment.” Not surprising, given his wealth.

“So, what’s your major?” She asked, scooting a bit closer. 

“Neurobiology. I’m pre-med,” he explained, trying to say it calmly. Sypha’s eyes went wide, of course. 

“Wow! Neurobiology. That makes sense, I suppose, for someone as smart as you.” Adrian looked back at his computer, a bit shyly.

“Do you have any minors?” She wondered, putting on lip gloss. 

“I do. Visual arts and software engineering.” He explained, watching her finish coating her lips in the pink gloss. Trevor noticed how his eyes lingered for a while on her, her mouth and her chest.

“Interesting. What a unique combination. So why did you pick all those areas?”

“Well, my parents allowed me to choose between two majors: pre-med or software engineering. My mother is a doctor and my father owns and operates CTC, so basically I needed to pick either of those paths. I chose pre-med neurobiology because it’s as close to my own interests as I could get. I do enjoy it… learning about the brain and its chemical structures.” Sypha made a noncommittal noise.

“So, if you could choose, you wouldn’t be a doctor or run CTC?” She asked, curious. Adrian huffed, shaking his head.

“No, no. I’m - I’m an artist, actually. I would be a studio art major if I could choose.” Sypha and Trevor both took notice at that. Trevor scowled.

“You’re an artist?” He asked, leaning over and looking the strange man up and down. Adrian tried to ignore him.

“Yes. I am.”

“That’s amazing! Oh my god, do you paint? Or draw? I love art,” she gushed, her excitement tangible in the air. Trevor sighed. 

“I do both, actually. And some digital art.” He smiled, clearly loving having her attention.

“Wow. That’s wonderful. Could I see some of your work sometime? I’d love to take a look.” Trevor typed away at his computer, trying to pretend he didn’t hear them flirting.

“Absolutely.”

“Wait - why won’t your parents let you do a visual art major?” She wondered. Adrian sighed. Trevor glared at him.

“They think art is more of a hobby, not a profession. They’re fine with me doing art, but not as a major. They want me to follow in their footsteps. It’s fine. I can do art on the side.”

“But, you don’t get to do what you want in life? That’s so sad.” She empathized.

“Well, it’s not what I would have chosen, but - it’s alright…” he drifted off. Trevor wanted to retch.

“Oh for fuck's sake, please try to get everyone to feel sorry for you. Oh, _poor_ Adrian, _poor_ billionaire. So sorry that mommy and daddy pay for your whole education and want you to succeed because you’re probably a shitty artist anyway. Boo- _fucking_ -hoo.” Trevor burst, trying to keep his voice down as much as he could. Adrian looked fully offended this time, expression shifting.

“Trevor, stop it! You're being rude.” Sypha warned, chiding him. Adrian leaned in, getting so close to Trevor that he could spell his expensive cologne.

“I never said to feel sorry for me. I said it’s alright. I’m just being honest. Mind your own fucking business, Belmont, and watch your mouth” Adrian’s whisper was imperceptible for everyone except Trevor and Sypha. He was downright scary for a second, his voice taking an icy turn. Trevor knew it, he knew he could get the Tepes bastard to reveal his dangerous, terrifying Tepes side. His evil side. _Hopefully, Sypha will realize that behind the nice guy act, he’s a fucking horrible person._

Adrian straightened then, turning his attention to Sypha. The mood instantly got lighter.

“Let us change the subject. Sypha, what’s your major?” 

“Majors actually. I have two. I’m a History and Peace and Justice Studies double major. And my minor is Anthropology,” she explained, back to her normal, peppy self. 

“Oh, that’s amazing. Do you want to be an archaeologist?” Adrian wondered.

“Yes, maybe. Or do work in diplomacy, or work at a nonprofit. Humanitarian work. I’m really interested in intersectionalism, and climate change. The sky's the limit.” She explained, stunning people as usual with her unique and selfless nature. Adrian looked a little starstruck, and Trevor thought he might actually vomit. _Maybe I should have taken more Tums._

“That’s - that’s amazing. What a fascinating range of career options.” Adrian looked like he might have wanted to marry her right there on the spot.

“What year are you?” Sypha asked, leaning forward. She was definitely flirting. Trevor could tell by the way she pushed her perky cleavage together and leaned in towards him, asking question after question. _Is she - is she wearing perfume?_ Trevor could smell it on her. Flowery and light and extremely distracting. She never wore perfume. Trevor felt doomed. _She definitely likes this Tepes son-of-a-bitch._

“I’m a sophomore. I’m 19.”

“What year are you?” Adrian reciprocated.

“Oh, I’m a sophomore too. But I’m 21. I took a year off to do work for the Peace Corps.” Adrian laughed lightly, impressed. Trevor watched his eyes wander while she spoke. _Fuck. They’re going to get in bed in ten seconds, aren’t they?_

“God, no wonder you got into Wallachia University. Where did you go with the Peace Corps?”

“Costa Rica. We did work in the countryside, working at the schools, improving buildings, teaching English. It was amazing.”

“I bet. I can’t imagine-”

“Yes, yes,” Trevor cut them off rudely, “Sypha is wonderful and altruistic. She is the best. But let’s focus on the project, okay? Adrian, help me figure this out. I don’t understand why the code won’t work.” Adrian sighed, but relented, helping him fix the problem. They worked for a while in uncomfortable silence. Well, not really silence. The repetitive lofi beat was looping overhead. Sypha shifted in her seat.

“...You know, Trevor’s amazing too. When he’s not being an asshole. He was homeless in middle school, but after freshman year he decided to go back to school. He got on a junior hockey league, and did really well, so he got a full-ride sports scholarship. And - and he ran a food drive at his high school for the local food bank and homeless shelters. He was so charismatic, the principal sent him to other high schools in the area to do fundraisers. He managed to raise like $10,000 in the end.” Trevor looked down at his screen, uncomfortably, as Sypha recounted his life story. It felt weird to have someone say it all out loud. Trevor kept quiet about his personal life most of the time. But Sypha was his best friend, so she knew a lot.

“That’s… incredible. Wow. If I didn’t know who you are, I would have guessed you were another unappreciative rich kid whose parents bribed admissions to get in.” Adrian commented quietly. Something about that made Trevor want to strangle him.

“Why?” Trevor snapped.

“Because of your bad attitude.”

“That’s because I hate you. And your family. I’m not like this all the time. You're a special case, Tepes.” Trevor explained, serious. Adrian looked at him like he needed serious psychiatric help, and so did Sypha.

“Trevor you have to stop that. Now. He didn’t do anything. If you want to hate his father, that’s one thing, but you don’t know him, so stop acting like he’s a murderer or something.” Sypha meant it. Trevor exhaled in anger, refusing to look at him.

“I thought we got past this, Trevor,” Adrian said softly. Trevor still didn’t want to let it go. I looked at Sypha, who was still mad at him.

“Whatever. But, Sypha, I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. Know that. He’s being all kind, and charming, God knows why… but he’s from bad stock. His father is a bad guy. Seriously bad. The kind of guy you would never want to get mixed up with. And that’s not my conspiracy theory. People know that. It’s common knowledge.” Trevor warned, making both Adrian and Sypha uncomfortable. The blonde man sighed.

“So, what you're saying is, because you think my father is a bad person, that automatically makes me a bad person, too? Without any evidence? Without anything else to go on but our blood connection?” Adrian challenged, crossing his arms. Trevor paused.

“I’m not saying you're exactly the same. But I know things. I know things that she doesn’t know. And it’s like they say, an apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. He raised you, right? So yeah, I don’t trust you. If you want me to trust you, you’re going to have to work hard for it.” 

Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose, wavy blonde hair falling over his shoulders.

“Look, Trevor. I don’t care if you have issues with my father. Lots of people hate him. But we’re not the same person. We’re honestly not that similar at all in our desires or behaviors. We have very different interests and different goals in life. I take much more after my mother, if you must know. But my family isn’t your concern. And if you don’t want to trust me, then don’t. It’s really not necessary for a fucking coding project. But I do ask that you stop behaving like a child, and acting as if we’re on a soap opera or something. Your claims are unfounded. I’m extremely sorry about what happened to your family, and your subsequent homelessness. But look, you brought yourself up, you got a scholarship. You’re successful, your life isn’t ruined. Let’s all just try to move on.” Adrian looked Trevor in the eyes, waiting for an answer. 

“Yeah. Okay. Moving on. I’m gonna take off then.” Trevor received glares from both Sypha and Adrian as he began to pack his things away.

“Stop! No way. We’re not finished. Trevor, either you learn to get along, or you're off the project,” Sypha warned harshly, challenging him with a glare that even Dracula himself might be afraid of. Trevor gulped.

“Open your laptop back up. We have to finish this task. It’s due on Monday.”

After that, there was no more complaining. They finished the outline and initial tasks without any more arguing. A couple of hours passed, somewhat awkwardly.

“Alright, that should do it. We’re done for now. I’ll submit it online.” Adrian tucked some of his long hair behind his ear. Trevor sighed in relief. 

“Fucking finally. I want to take a nap. Coding is exhausting.”

“Yeah, a nap sounds good. Then I have to start reading. I have like a hundred pages due by Tuesday.” She put her belongings into her button-covered knapsack and adjusted her cute little miniskirt. Adrian looked at her for a moment.

“I could give you a ride back to campus if you want. So you don’t have to walk... Both of you,” Adrian offered. Trevor and Sypha looked at each other. Sypha smiled, but Trevor only shrugged.

“Okay, great,” Trevor relented, putting on his coat. Adrian raised a brow, texting on his brand new CTC phone. The new model didn’t even have any buttons, it just looked like a perfect, smooth rock. Trevor noticed Adrian’s phone cover was a print with a sword and a red rose in some sort of artistic design. Apparently, Sypha noticed it, too.

“Oh, what a cool phone case! The design is so pretty.” She smiled, slipping on her backpack. Adrian smiled back coyly.

“Thanks. It’s my design. I wanted to get it as a tattoo, but I think my parents might have killed me, so I just made it into my phone case instead.” Sypha laughed while Trevor contemplated how bad it would actually be to grab the CTC phone out of his perfect hands and throw it across the room.

“You’re so good. I love it… So, no tattoos yet, huh? I have three small ones… Maybe for my next one, I’ll get one of your designs,” Sypha suggested. Adrian looked up at that, taken aback.

“Really?” He was beaming, eyes glittering with excitement that Sypha would want one of his drawings as a tattoo.

“Yeah, maybe, if you let people use your designs. Do you have an Instagram or VSCO or something?” She asked, whipping out her phone with her pink ‘Empowered Women Empower Women’ case. They exchanged Instagrams while Trevor watched, trying not to obviously look jealous. Adrian slipped on his smooth black wool coat and the trio walked outside.

“Wow, you have such a nice Instagram. I just kind of post whatever I want,” she complimented, looking over Adrian’s array of perfect, sophisticated posts. He laughed lightly.

“Well, you can like all my pictures later. The car’s almost here,” Adrian teased. Trevor scowled, turned around.

“Wait, what? It’s almost here?” Trevor asked, stepping towards Adrian. The blonde nodded. 

“Yeah, in a minute or two.”

“Oh, you called an Uber for us?” Sypha asked, feeling guilty. Adrian looked at the sidewalk uncomfortably.

“No, I,” he paused, “I have a driver.” To which Trevor groaned like a man in pain, walking around just to get away from the billionaire.

“Of course you have a fucking driver. God, what’s it like, living life in the upper crust? A driver, Jesus fucking chri-”

“Hey, don’t swear in the car. My driver’s Catholic, so try not to take God’s name in vain.” Trevor spun around.

“So am I!” He rebuked, to which Adrian and Sypha both laughed.

“Really? You sound like a sailor.” Adrian condemned Trevor’s potty mouth. Sypha couldn’t stop laughing.

“I’ve never, ever seen you go to church, Trevor,” she wheezed. Trevor scowled.

“I’m working on it- I’ll get there eventually. Shut up. I’m not saying I’m a perfect Catholic. I may have missed a few confessions.”

“Or a thousand,” Sypha teased, remembering all of the not-so-Christian deeds Trevor was guilty of. Adrian and Sypha both laughed at him for a minute, reveling in the fact that a man like Trevor proclaimed himself a Catholic.

“Is your car coming soon? It’s cold as hell out here,” Trevor complained, kicking some snow and tucking his hands in his pockets. Sypha started laughing again.

“You did it again! Stop that.” Trevor scowled while they both giggled at his ridiculousness.

“Why would you say ‘cold as hell’ anyway? Isn’t hell supposed to be hot? The only phrase that makes sense would be ‘hot as hell’,” Adrian critiqued, pulling his hair over one shoulder.

“Well, alright then. It’s cold as a witch’s tit! How about that? Is that politically correct?” Trevor almost yelled, and Sypha couldn’t stop laughing at the strange interchange between perfect, calm Adrian and the not-so-perfect, never calm mess that was Trevor Belmont.

“My car’s here.” Trevor looked to see what it was. A black Rolls-Royce SUV pulled around the corner and slowed down in front of the cafe. Sypha gasped quietly and turned to Adrian.

“What kind of car is that?” She didn’t even know, because it was too expensive. Trevor only knew because his dad had always wanted either a Rolls-Royce or a Lamborghini, but he always said he had to wait until his debts were paid off to get something so audacious. Of course, Adrian had one.

“It’s a Rolls Royce Cullinan. I shouldn't say it’s mine, it’s not actually my car. My father owns it, but he lets me use it,” Adrian explained, slipping his phone into his pocket. 

“It’s worth like $400,000, Sypha.” She gasped, and then promptly shut her mouth. He felt the very powerful and sudden urge to scratch the damn thing with his dorm key.

“I’ll try not to spill anything, then,” she said nervously as the driver stepped out and approached them. He wore a white shirt and a black suit and tie.

“Hello, Eduardo,” Adrian greeted the tan Catholic driver.

“Hello, Adrian. Are these your friends?” He asked, opening the car door. Adrian looked at the odd pair in front of him.

“I just met them. We’re classmates.” He said, stepping inside. Trevor and Sypha got in apprehensively, Trevor in the backseat and Sypha beside Adrian in the middle row. The inside of the car was somewhere between a first-class seat in an airplane, and an actual spaceship. The interior smelled like leather and Adrian’s fancy cologne. 

“I’m dropping you all off at the university?” Eduardo asked. Adrian was looking at his phone.

“No, just them. I’m headed back to my apartment.”

Trevor looked around, feeling like a servant who climbed into his master’s carriage. The car was like a rolling palace. Silent and smooth ride. Heated seats. White and black interior leather, tinted windows. He sighed. _Oh, the perks of being evil._

Sypha tapped his shoulder and he looked to see her pointing up at the ceiling, quiet but a look of frenzy in her eyes. The ceiling of the car was made to look like the night sky, with actual twinkling lights that gave the appearance of stars. Adrian noticed, chuckling.

“Oh yeah. My father always goes for the extra features. Why not, when you’re already getting a car like this? It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?” He joked, resting his arm on the side. Sypha huffed.

“Yeah. I’ve never seen anything like this,” she looked up in wonder. A few minutes later Adrian dropped them off at school. They made their way out of the SUV. The cold air bit his skin.

“I’ll see you on Monday. Bye, guys,” his face was serious again, but Sypha still smiled.

“Bye. Thank you so much for the ride. See you on Monday,” she waved, getting out. Trevor didn’t bother with a thank you, he couldn’t bear it. 

“Bye,” he sighed, and closed the door behind him, leaving Adrian to his perfect, private world of luxury. It felt good to shut the door in his face. When the car drove off, Sypha tugged on his coat.

“What the hell is the matter with you?! He’s being so nice, and you’re just acting like a complete asshole. You know why no one likes you besides me? That! That. What you just did. Don’t talk to somebody like that. He offered you a ride and you can’t even say thanks? And you slammed the door of his fancy car. He didn’t even do anything to you. I’m embarrassed to be friends with you when you act like this. Am I supposed to always apologize for your behavior? Huh?” Sypha pushed on his chest, venting out her frustrations. Trevor inhaled sharply at her yelling. No one else was nearby to hear, but still, he felt uncomfortable. Trevor looked away from her.

“I don’t like him. I don’t like his family. I don’t trust them.”

“So what? Grow up! You want to graduate? Get out of here? Get a real job? You’re going to have to put up with people you don’t like to do that. And you don’t like his family? Whatever. We’re not doing the project with them. And he is nice to you. He’s trying to help you get a good grade. If you would just give him a chance, you stubborn Taurus-” 

Trevor cut her off before she started going off about his astrological sign and its many implications. He shuffled a bit in place, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“Okay. Okay, you won me over Sypha. I’ll give him a chance. Fine. You win.” He slumped over, walking away in defeat. 

“Alright, if you’re really going to try to be nice, then say thank you.” She ordered. Trevor looked back at her, her arms crossed in determination. He raised a brow.

“He’s gone Sypha.” She walked forward.

“You have a cell phone, don’t you? Text him. In the group chat. Make it right. Don’t leave the wrong impression,” she was calming down, and Trevor looked at her like a toddler looks at his mother, feeding him broccoli.

“...fine. I’ll say thanks.” He took out his phone.

[ study group ;) ]

Trevor (3:33 pm) thanks for the ride, asswipe

Sypha took out her own phone to check the message. She gasped harshly, whipping around.

“Trevor!” 

  
  


**A/N: Things will improve when Trevor gets over his hatred from Adrian.**

**Please Review!! What did you think of this chapter?**


	5. Second Study Group Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio gets to know each other better.

**Chapter Five: Second Study Group Meeting**

* * *

** So, I absolutely love putting together outfits, especially designer ones that I could never afford in real life. So in case you want to know what the outfits I describe actually look like, here are the links. If you're a fashion geek, like me, you may enjoy.

 **Adrian’s Outfit #1** : [ https://www.pinterest.com/pin/829154981385041866/ ](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/829154981385041866/)

Bag:[ https://www.givenchy.com/us/en-US/givenchy-4g-bum-bag%C2%A0in%C2%A0nylon/3615204957691.html?cmpid&cmpid&gclid=Cj0KCQjwncT1BRDhARIsAOQF9Ln7CEZd7HxT_7IvNilmMdWNUa-snATqVwWExl2G0plAOssSQFkULIwaAhNYEALw_wcB ](https://www.givenchy.com/us/en-US/givenchy-4g-bum-bag%C2%A0in%C2%A0nylon/3615204957691.html?cmpid&cmpid&gclid=Cj0KCQjwncT1BRDhARIsAOQF9Ln7CEZd7HxT_7IvNilmMdWNUa-snATqVwWExl2G0plAOssSQFkULIwaAhNYEALw_wcB)

**Adrian’s Outfit #2:**

Coat:[ https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/canada-goose-black-label-carson-coyote-fur-down-jacket/product/0400096152838?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306641433&R=801688795277&P_name=Canada+Goose&N=306641433&bmUID=n7fZaTj ](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/canada-goose-black-label-carson-coyote-fur-down-jacket/product/0400096152838?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306641433&R=801688795277&P_name=Canada+Goose&N=306641433&bmUID=n7fZaTj)

Pants:[ https://www.gucci.com/us/en/pr/men/ready-to-wear-for-men/denim-for-men/tapered-denim-pant-with-symbols-p-408637XD8364271 ](https://www.gucci.com/us/en/pr/men/ready-to-wear-for-men/denim-for-men/tapered-denim-pant-with-symbols-p-408637XD8364271)

Shirt:[ https://www.gucci.com/us/en/pr/women/ready-to-wear-for-women/tops-shirts-for-women/blouses-for-women/mens-check-gg-silk-crepe-shirt-p-591244ZADWP6620 ](https://www.gucci.com/us/en/pr/women/ready-to-wear-for-women/tops-shirts-for-women/blouses-for-women/mens-check-gg-silk-crepe-shirt-p-591244ZADWP6620)

Backpack:[ https://www.prada.com/us/en/men/bags/backpacks/products.nylon_backpack.2VZ049_064_F0002_V_OOO.html ](https://www.prada.com/us/en/men/bags/backpacks/products.nylon_backpack.2VZ049_064_F0002_V_OOO.html)

Boots:[ https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/prada-saffiano-leather-chelsea-boots-black-prod189780475?utm_source=google_shopping&adpos=&scid=scplpsku164322689&sc_intid=sku164322689&ecid=NMCS__GooglePLA&gclid=Cj0KCQjwncT1BRDhARIsAOQF9Lmzpd_6wFohE-DV-WyHk3GjymBMbTsoQaN_KPlz91KyvmKtI0UKkhcaAsETEALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds ](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/prada-saffiano-leather-chelsea-boots-black-prod189780475?utm_source=google_shopping&adpos=&scid=scplpsku164322689&sc_intid=sku164322689&ecid=NMCS__GooglePLA&gclid=Cj0KCQjwncT1BRDhARIsAOQF9Lmzpd_6wFohE-DV-WyHk3GjymBMbTsoQaN_KPlz91KyvmKtI0UKkhcaAsETEALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds)

**Sypha’s Outfit:**

[ https://us.princesspolly.com/products/leon-top-white?variant=29365787230292 ](https://us.princesspolly.com/products/leon-top-white?variant=29365787230292)

* * *

[ study group ;) ]

Trevor (3:33 pm) thanks for the ride, asswipe

Adrian (3:35 pm) You’re welcome, shithead.

Trevor laughed at that. 

“See, Sypha? He appreciates my unique sense of humor. No harm no foul.”

  
  


On Thursday night, Trevor and Sypha were studying in the dorm study room, when they encountered a problem. Both couldn’t figure out the error in the coding homework, due that night. Sypha had been googling for an hour and tried several different things, but she couldn’t figure it out. Trevor had given up an hour ago and had been watching YouTube videos ever since. As a last resort, Sypha called Adrian. 

“Okay, we’re going to ask Adrian. Be nice, or I will take away your snacks.” Sypha threatened, putting the call on speakerphone. Trevor grunted.

[calling: Adrian Tepes] 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, Adrian. This is Trevor and Sypha. We had a quick question if that’s okay. About coding,” she said sweetly. There was odd noise in the background.

“Oh, okay.”

“Are we catching you at a bad time?” She asked, chewing on her thumbnail nervously. She rested her head on her hand. 

“Ah, I’m fencing right now.” To that, Trevor made a face. _What the fuck?_

“You're fencing? Seriously? Who actually does that?” Trevor spoke up in disbelief. Adrian sighed on the other side.

“Yes. People do that. Although it’s perhaps a more elevated sport than you’re accustomed to, Trevor. Or capable of.”

“Ugh, you stuck up son-of-a-” he started but Sypha cut him off.

“That sounds great! Sorry to bother you. We’ll see you in class, then.” 

A pause.

“Well, if you need my help, that’s okay... Isn’t the homework due tonight?” He asked, a little out of breath.

“Yeah, it’s due at midnight. We’d appreciate the help, if you have time. If you don’t, it’s okay-” 

“It’s not a problem. I’m almost done here. When I finish, I’ll come over to help you. Where are you?” At that, Sypha smiled.

“We’re in the Johnson study rooms, on the west side of campus. Inside the dorm building,” she explained.

“Okay. I don’t live on campus, so I’m going to need whoever lives there to come up and let me in when I arrive. I don’t have a key.” Sypha smiled at her best friend.

“That’s Trevor. He’ll come up. Thank you so much, Adrian.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll be there in a half-hour.”

[ study group ;) ] 

Adrian (8:35 pm) I’m here.

Trevor went upstairs, trying to put on a calm face. Sypha was going to start getting extremely angry at him if he was mean, so he made a goal to try his best to not yell at Adrian or fantasize about strangling him, which was difficult. He found Adrian in the lobby of the dorm. His all-black outfit juxtaposed the starkly white lobby. He had his hair up, for once, in a bun that he somehow pulled off. He wore a black long sleeve shirt and black joggers with a few silver chains and a utility belt. A black and white Givenchy nylon belt bag was slung across his torso.

“Hello, Trevor,” was his curt greeting, and he immediately started walking downstairs.

“‘Sup?” Trevor answered back, trying his best to be cordial. Adrian threw a look behind his shoulder that meant ‘really’. Trevor rolled his eyes, pushing past the man.

“Adrian, hey! How are you doing?” Sypha called out, comfortable in her fuzzy pink pajamas. He smiled when he saw her appearance. She looked like a pink marshmallow. 

“Hey, Sypha. I’m doing well. How’s your week so far?” He took a seat next to her at the large table. They were the only ones using the dorm study room at night. 

“Pretty good. I’m sorry for my pajamas. At night, when we’re studying in the dorms-”

“No worries... It’s cute,” he complimented quietly, and Sypha smiled bashfully. Trevor withheld a groan. _Fuck this guy. Fuck him right in his little-_

“How was fencing?” She asked, holding her legs up on the chair. Adrian crossed one leg over another.

“Great. It’s a good workout. I’ve been doing it since I was little,” He looked at Sypha’s computer, “Having a problem with the code?” 

She sighed in exasperation. 

“Yes, we can’t figure it out all day! It’s driving me crazy. Can you take a look?” She asked, tilting her head innocently and flashing her big sparkly blue eyes at him.

“Of course. Let’s see…” he moved his chair right next to her and looked through the code. Trevor caught Sypha’s eyes trail over his body and his perfect profile as he read through it. Trevor did too, then, only because he couldn’t help himself. Hatred aside, the man was like a Greek statue. His long blonde eyelashes brushed against high cheekbones, making him look like royalty. Or a model. His nose was straight and narrow, leading down to soft cupid’s bow lips. Trevor would never admit, but he let his eyes linger there for far too long. 

“Okay, I think I see what it is,” he muttered. Sypha drew in close.

“Oh, yeah? What’s the problem?”

“You’ve forgotten to put quotes around the string here. And, here, after the ‘def’ you forgot to add the colon,” he fixed it for her, pointing out the errors.

“Sometimes it sounds like you have a British accent, did you know that?” Sypha added out of nowhere. Adrian chuckled. 

“My mom is British. Sometimes I pronounce words like her accidentally.”

“Really? I didn’t know that. Where is she from in the UK?”

“She’s from a small town called St. Ives, in Cornwall.”

“From your accent, I would assume you’re Spanish?” Adrian asked. Sypha nodded.

“Yes. My mom was Spanish, but my dad was an American,” she explained, and Adrian’s face fell.

“Have your parents passed away?” He asked carefully.

“Yeah, they died in a car crash when I was a baby. My grandfather raised me, my mother’s father.”

“I’m so sorry, Sypha.”

“It’s alright. I never knew them, so I can’t miss them. But thank you. I have spent time in Spain, though, with family. My mom was from Madrid.” 

“It’s beautiful there.”

“When did you go?”

“Oh, last summer. My mom wanted to go to the Mediterranean because she had never been, so we took a vacation. I think I mainly got to go along because I’m the only one in the family who can speak Spanish.”

“¿Tu hablas español? ¿Seriamente?”

“Sí. Entiendo más de lo que puedo hablar, pero sí. Aprendí en la secundaria.”

“That’s awesome. We can speak in Spanish together? I would love that. I never get to speak Spanish here. There aren’t that many Spanish-speaking students here at school.”

“We can whenever you want,” Adrian grinned.

“Ugh, please don’t. How would I understand?” Trevor spoke up, trying and failing to not sound jealous. Adrian glared at him a bit for interrupting.

“Right. Only when Trevor’s not around, then. Haha,” she teased, which Trevor did not really enjoy. When she saw his sour face, she got up, laughing.

“Hey, come on, I’m just kidding,” she joked, grabbing him and giving him a spontaneous hug. She playfully rocked him side to side, as if to shake the grumpiness out of him.

“Don’t be grumpy,” she lamented, looking down at him and pouting. Trevor laughed, playfully pushing her away. A smile broke out on his handsome face.

“Alright, alright. I’m better. Did we fix the code?” 

“Yes, it’s running now,” Adrian’s mood was serious once again. His blank expression remained as Sypha checked over the homework and turned it in online.

“Great! Thanks so much for coming all the way over, Adrian. We really appreciate it. Don’t we, Trevor?” She pushed, egging him on. Trevor smiled fakely.

“Yes, thanks a lot, asswipe.” Sypha reached over the table to smack his shoulder.

“Stop that! Ah, you are infuriating sometimes.”

“Seriously, thanks, Adrian. We’re not very good at this stuff,” Trevor corrected, sincere this time. Adrian’s face was still as a statue as he looked at Trevor. He nodded passively.

“You’re welcome. Enjoy your night.” He stood up to leave.

“Wait, one sec. When do you want to work on the project? The next part is due on Monday. It looks like a lot of work.” She asked Adrian, where he stood in the doorway.

“I can meet you on Saturday again at 11.” 

“Same cafe?” She asked, and Adrian nodded.

“I’ll see you then. Good night.” 

They met the next Saturday, as planned. This time, Trevor wasn’t hungover. It was starting to snow, and really Trevor wished his two-dollar gloves offered better protection from the biting New York cold. He was very relieved to set foot inside the coffee house. He looked around the place, searching for a familiar face among the potted ferns and modern line drawings on the wall. The same lofi music beat quietly overhead. And just as before, it wasn’t Sypha, but Adrian, who was sitting in the back corner table. He was looking over sheets of paper, a couple of pens and highlighters laid out on the surface of the table. Trevor approached him, too tired to sigh. Adrian was wearing a pair of shiny red Beats, seemingly very focused on the papers in front of him. Trevor laid down his laptop and Adrian looked up quickly, pulling down his headphones. Trevor could hear an unusual foreign sound coming from them because he didn’t stop the music.

“Hey, Adrian, what’s up?” Trevor sighed, not bothering to be rude this early. Adrian gestured to the sheets in front of him.

“Studying for my neuro exam. Memorizing brain structures.” 

“Ah. What are you listening to?” Trevor wondered. 

“Korean rap,” Adrian answered calmly, to which Trevor startled. 

“Korean rap?!” He had never heard of a white person listening to such a thing.

“It’s good. Have you ever even tried it?” He challenged Trevor, turning it off on his phone. Trevor made a face.

“No. I’m not saying it’s bad or anything, it’s just - you’re listening to Korean rap on a Saturday morning. That’s so… weird. You’re a weird guy, Adrian.”

“Well, at least I’m not boring. Thanks,” Adrian threw back, moving past him to go to the counter. When they had ordered and were seated back at the table, he put away his study sheets and took out his CTC laptop. Trevor drank his coffee, absently staring at the man.

This time, Adrian was wearing a red silk crepe Gucci button-down, only the top several buttons were loose, exposing the pale skin of his chest. Trevor had to look closely at the stitching to see the Gucci logo in the print. His jeans were Gucci also, medium wash with various patches sewn in: snakes and hearts and lightning bolts. Trevor didn’t know anything about high fashion, nor did he give a shit, but he knew the labels because he learned what clothes were worth something at a resale place. He could usually sell them on websites under a fake profile for a pretty penny. Trevor didn’t care about stealing from the rich. _Losing a thousand wouldn’t even phase him. He might not even get mad._ Adrian was wearing his usual Prada Chelsea boots and nylon backpack. _That’s another couple thousand right there._ Trevor tried to shake it off, ignoring his compulsion to steal anything valuable in sight.

“Are you looking at my clothes?” Adrian asked suddenly, seeing that Trevor was eyeing him up. The only other option was to say that he was checking out his body, so Trevor nodded.

“Yeah. You have a peculiar taste in fashion… Not that I’m a fashion expert at all. I could never afford Gucci, anyway, and I would ever buy it if I could.” Trevor turned to look out the window, sipping his cup of coffee.

“How can you tell my outfit is Gucci?” He asked, raising a perfect blonde eyebrow. Trevor turned back around, inhaling. _Shit. How do I explain that?_

“The logo - on the shirt. It has the GG symbol all over in the stitching.” Adrian looked down, pulling at his shirt. It was there, but barely perceptible.

“Hm. And the jeans? You’re right. They’re the same brand. How could you even tell?”

“Uh, the little patches and stuff. Gucci puts those things on purses and sweaters.” He tried to sound casual, hoping Adrian wouldn’t pry. He did, of course.

“So, you don’t care about fashion, and yet you can tell all that? Barely anyone would be able to tell that if they didn’t purchase the clothing…” His brows arched in suspicion, putting two and two together. Trevor sighed exasperatedly.

“Alright. Fine, I used to steal designer stuff. Yeah. When I was seriously broke, like - about to starve or freeze to death- I learned how to appraise things. It would get me off the streets and into a crappy hotel for a couple of nights. Whatever. There were a couple of rich kids at my high school and I would take their things from time to time. If someone is rich enough to pay $2,700 for a shirt and jeans,” he pointed to Adrian’s ensemble, “I seriously didn’t give a shit about taking their valuables. I needed it much more than them.”

Adrian hummed, not berating him for it. He looked at Trevor, thinking.

“Used to? You don’t do it anymore?” The blonde asked, leaning back.

“Have you noticed anything missing lately?” Trevor’s voice was low and sardonic. Adrian smirked before he laughed. 

“Ah, no. I haven’t.” Trevor chuckled too.

“Yeah, I don’t do that any longer. I wouldn’t steal anything in that price range anymore. Too risky. I don’t want to risk my scholarship. And when I’m out of here, hopefully, I’ll get an actual job and won’t need to steal anything anymore.” Adrian nodded, thinking.

“Can I ask, why did you become homeless? Did you leave your foster home on purpose? Or… were you kicked out?” He asked quietly. Trevor’s expression was impassive.

“I’m not going to talk about that... Focus on the project. And don’t pry into my personal life, Tepes.” He shut him down, focusing back on his laptop. Adrian said nothing.

“Hello! Good morning boys! How are we?” Sypha asked, approaching the table in a blur of color and motion. She was wearing a big yellow winter coat. Underneath, she had on a tight off-shoulder long-sleeved white shirt and a baby blue miniskirt with black and white flowers on it. Again, the boys couldn’t take their eyes off of her for a while.

“Good. Did you know Adrian here is into Korean rap?” He started, furrowing his dark brows and leaning back like it was the strangest thing he ever heard.

“No, I didn’t. How interesting. Is it good?” She asked, taking a seat beside Adrian and dumping her bag on the free chair. 

“It is. Do - you want to listen to some?” Adrian asked. She smiled widely, running a hand through her strawberry pixie cut.

“Yeah. Definitely. Lemme hear.” Adrian offered over his Beats and turned on his phone, watching her expression. She started to nod her head with the beat, and then she smiled.

“Woah. It’s so fast, oh my god. The sound quality is so good, too.” She took them off after a while.

“I like it! Will you send me the link? That would be great for workouts and stuff. It’s so energizing. Can you put it on the group chat?” She asked, bubbly as ever. Sypha was indeed a morning person. After getting tea and a scone, Sypha settled in too. 

“Okay, what’s the next step here?”

“Setting up the website. Using Pyramid. The directions are on the google doc, do you see them?” Adrian explained, leaning over to show her on her computer. Trevor seethed a little from his seat. He hated how close they were getting lately. Literally, close. Right next to each other. _I can smell his fucking designer perfume from here. I bet he’s, like, infecting her with it. Damn pheromones._

“I can’t figure out how to download it.”

“Can I show you?” Adrian asked, ever the mannered prince. She smiled, letting him come right next to her and help her with the download. Trevor thought he could sense the tension between them already. And not bad tension. He sighed deeply. 

“Adrian, why don’t you look over my code. Here,” he handed over his old, decrepit laptop. Adrian handled the thing like an archaeologist uncovering a fossil.

“Alright. You know, please and thank you never hurts. Jesus.”

“He’s right. You really need to work on your manners.” Sypha chided, tucking a piece of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. Today she was wearing big silver hoops. Adrian handed the piece-of-crap laptop back like it might fall to pieces if he didn’t support it right.

“He acts like he’s a damn prince. Where did you go, huh, some Connecticut prep school?” Trevor crossed his arms. _This guy is the worst._

“Trevor! Ugh. Will you curb your jealousy? Please, for just two whole minutes?” Sypha leaned over, staring at him like a mother scolding a child. He rolled his eyes.

“Where did you go to school, Adrian?” She asked.

“I went to Avenues, in Manhattan. It’s by the High Line, in Chelsea.” He answered, sipping his drink. Sypha raised her eyebrows.

“Private school?” Trevor asked, knowingly. Adrian nodded.

“Oh really? School in Manhattan? How cool. Did you like it?” She wondered.

Trevor looked the school up on Google while they talked.

“The curriculum was good. My classmates were... terrible.” 

“Really?” She gasped. Trevor interrupted them.

“It costs $56,400 a year?! Are you fucking joking?” He almost yelled, not believing the number before his eyes.

“Trevor, lower your voice,” Adrian warned sharply.

“Is it seriously that much a year?”

“Avenues is an elite world school. It’s very hard to get into. Pretty much guarantees Ivy-League admission if you make it there.” Was his only response.

“That’s - insane.” Trevor couldn't believe it. 

“So, is it like Gossip girl?” Sypha asked expectantly, resting her head on her hands.

Adrian laughed for a while.

“It’s not that dramatic. That show is very - over the top. But the meltdowns, the eating disorders, the drug addictions, and the promiscuity, yeah. That part is accurate. People at elite schools like mine did crazy things. They pay a thousand dollars in tenth grade for a VIP table at a club. I once saw a classmate blow a teacher at the top of a stairwell…” Sypha gasped, and Trevor started laughing. _Rich fucks._

“Most of the teenagers are, truly, assholes. They think their wealth makes them completely untouchable. That character, Chuck, on the show, is very accurate. I know a couple of guys just like that in Manhattan. Some from Avenues.”

“That’s crazy. I can’t even imagine.”

“I only saw the first season of Gossip Girl. I couldn't stand to watch more. Some of it’s extremely ridiculous, like students having sex on a bar counter at the Palace Hotel. I don’t think anyone has ever done that. And they never do homework on the show. Totally ridiculous. Most of my classmates were extremely competitive in school, not uninvolved.”

“Did your classmate blow the teacher for... fun? Or to get ahead?” Sypha asked, giggling. 

“Mm… I don’t know. He was pretty hot. Maybe it was just for fun. For the thrill of getting caught.”

“Is everyone as hot as you are at that school? Like on Gossip Girl?” Sypha asked, flirting. Adrian’s eyes widened, and he almost blushed, laughing lightly.

“Uh, thank you. There was a mix.” 

“What did you do when you caught your classmate giving oral in the hall?” Trevor asked, biting into his bagel sloppily. Adrian grimaced.

“Did you report her?” Sypha wondered.

“God, no. That girl’s parents would not be happy if I did that. Her parents were… I shouldn’t say. I’ll just tell you they run a very successful bank. No one can really report anyone at that school, in that environment. The teachers are all worried about backlash from the student’s billionaire parents. And so were the other students. Catfights at that school turned into all-out lawsuits or tabloid cover stories. I just tried to stay out of it. Those types of people.. They’ll stab you in the back without blinking.”

“Oh, so because all the students were so connected and rich, nobody dared to speak out against them? Or get after them?” 

“Right. For example, we took the ACT and the AP exams inside the school, and half of the class or more cheated throughout the whole thing. They used their phones. The teachers did nothing. It’s hard to prove and they wanted to have the students get good scores anyway, so it would reflect well on the school. A few of my classmates had a NYU student on retainer who they paid to write all their essays and assignments. Our teachers didn’t do anything about it. It’s corrupt, really… But I never did that stuff. What’s the point of paying so much for a private school if you’re not going to learn anything? Besides, I bet they’re all struggling in college now or still paying someone to write their stuff. But a lot of professors wouldn’t let cheating go under the radar in the Ivy League. They’re probably getting bad grades now. But I can’t do that. I won’t get into med school with bad grades. I actually have to study.” Sypha and Trevor listened attentively as Adrian explained life in NYC’s upper elite. It was fascinating.

“I never knew that before. I mean, I heard about people paying their way into the Ivies, but I never knew about all that. We did the ACT and AP tests at a public place and they took our cell phones before them,” Sypha added. Trevor nodded.

“Mine too. They watched for cheating where I took it.”

“You haven’t been to the bubble that is Avenues: The World School. Alright, I’m not sure what the professor wants for this next part. It’s not really clear. I’m going to shoot him an email real quick. He usually responds pretty quickly.” Adrian typed an email and sent it.

“What are we supposed to do until then?” Trevor groaned in annoyance. Sypha clapped her hands together, bouncing up and down on her chair. 

“I know! We should do icebreakers. To get to know each other better.” She smiled brightly, pearly white teeth on display.

“Ugh, God no, Sypha,” Trevor complained, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Come on, please? Please?” She grabbed his hand, clutching it between her own. Trevor softened at the gesture, loving the feeling of her little hands wrapped around his own. He looked away from her huge blue eyes that practically melted his icy soul into a puddle.

“Alright. Just until we get back to coding.” He relented. She perked up, looking over to the blonde who was staring at their interlaced hands. Or, more like glaring. He looked up, quickly. 

“Huh?” He asked, seemingly lost in his own thoughts or emotions.

“Adrian, what's your embarrassing guilty pleasure song?" Sypha asked.

"Unwritten, Natasha Bedingfield." Sypha laughed happily. Trevor snorted.

"I love that song."

"My mom used to blast it in the car when I was a kid and we would sing together. It always makes me feel better," he admitted, smiling.

"Okay, so... what are your top five desert island movies?” She asked, very dedicated to knowing more about him. He thought for a moment, running a hand through his long hair.

“Memoirs of a Geisha, Amadeus, The Grand Budapest Hotel, The Shape of Water, and… Spirited Away.” 

“By Hayao Miyazaki? I love that movie! You have great taste.” She complimented. _Hayao Miya-? Who's that?_

“I don’t know any of those movies,” Trevor grumbled. 

“You don’t even know Memoirs of a Geisha? That’s a classic.” 

“Yeah, no. I don’t have much time for movies. Kinda focused on staying alive and making ends meet.” His voice was rough and unenthused. Sypha tsked.

“You have plenty of time for _drinking_ … couldn't that time be used for classic movie-watching?” Sypha made a face at him.

“Hey! That time is crucial - to my bodily health and mental well-being.” He insisted sardonically.

“Sure it is.” She rolled her big blue eyes. 

“Come on, Trevor what are yours?” She pried.

“I don’t know.” 

“Play the game! Come on,” she urged him. He looked at her.

“Uh, okay. I’ll just list some movies I like, I guess. Haven’t seen that many… The Departed, National Treasure, Fight Club, Moneyball, and...what’s it called- Inglorious Bastards! Love that movie.” Adrian smirked.

“Have a crush on Brad Pitt, do you?” He asked, typing on his laptop. Trevor pursed his lips. _I do, but I’m sure as hell not going to tell you that._

“Shut the fuck up. He’s a good actor.” 

“I think Johnny Depp’s much hotter than him,” Adrian commented quietly. Trevor made a face.

“What? No way - Brad Pitt is way hotter than Johnny-” he cut himself off. _Fuck! Fuck!_

Adrian burst out laughing and then so did Sypha.

“I think anyone would sleep with Brad Pitt. At least once. That’s like, an irresistible human experience.” Sypha theorized. 

“Oh, he wrote back,” Adrian said, checking the email from their professor. 

"Brad Pitt?" Sypha asked. He chuckled.

"No, our 80-year-old professor."

“What did he say?”

“He explained what we have to do… I don’t know if I understand. I’ll have to look it up.” Adrian scowled.

“Forward it to us - we can all try to look it up and find the answer faster.” Sypha shifted in her seat, tucking her leg up.

“Okay, sure.”

After an hour of trying to solve the code, and hitting snags, the trio was growing frustrated. The answers they found online weren’t working, and even Adrian didn’t know how to fix it. The professor wasn’t about to just hand out the answers, so they would have to solve it somehow. Sypha was trying everything she could find from the coding help websites, but it was never successful.

“Ugh. I need a break. I’m going to go outside for a bit. Clear my head,” Adrian spoke up. He opened his Prada backpack and fished out a pack of Marlboro’s. Trevor raised his brows in shock.

“You smoke?” He asked. Trevor never would have guessed that. 

“A little. I’m not a heavy smoker, though.” He answered, standing up. 

“Want to go outside? Get some air?” Adrian offered, slipping on his black Canada Goose fur-lined coat and grabbing the pack of cigarettes from the table. 

“I’m going to call my grandpa, so you two go ahead,” Sypha said, digging in her bag for her cell phone. Trevor sighed.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go.” He put on his overused, fading Walmart coat and followed Adrian outside the coffee house. It was a little better in the sunlight. Much more bearable. Adrian lit a cigarette and brought it to his lips.

“Do you want one?” The blonde offered, pulling another out of the pack.

“Yeah, why not?” He accepted. Trevor put it between his lips, leaned in and Adrian helped him light it. Trevor tried not to think about how close his face was. How close his lips were. But, in a moment, it was lit, and Trevor backed away. He took a long drag, inhaling deeply. 

“Does your mom get after you for smoking? She’s a doctor, right?” Trevor asked. Adrian rested against the brick building, looking into the distance.

“She doesn’t know. I’d never tell her…” Adrian answered softly, exhaling through his lips, a trail of smoke leaving his mouth upon exhale. His hair and eyelashes shined in the direct sunlight, making him sparkle ethereally. Trevor watched him take another draw, full lips in a pout, wrapped around the cigarette, elegant hand holding it to his mouth. _God, he looks so good._ Trevor startled himself with the thought, and he put it out of mind. He looked away, trying to focus on the smell of the smoke and the feeling of the cold air on his skin. Not Adrian. _Jesus Christ._

“Is that rabbit fur?” He gestured to the lining of Adrian’s hood. Don’t you feel bad about killing little bunnies?” Trevor changed the subject to something definitely not sexy. Adrian huffed.

“It’s coyote fur. I don’t feel bad about wearing a coyote. Coyotes are dangerous, they eat people’s dogs and livestock.” He answered.

“I never asked before, but, what’s your major?” Adrian asked, turning to Trevor and resting his shoulder against the side of the building. He blew some smoke out of the side of his pretty mouth. Trevor looked away from him again.

“It’s sociology.” Adrian snorted a bit, like he was trying to keep himself from laughing. He willed his face to be neutral.

“I know, I know - Dumb jock, I get it. Fuck off. 

“Do you want to be a cop? Or a lawyer?” Adrian asked, thinking of the only jobs he could come up with that would use that major.

“Definitely not a lawyer. Probably not a cop either… I don’t really know what I want to do, so I’m in this major right now. The classes are fine. I might switch to business. I was thinking about it over the break.” Trevor explained, cracking his back and his neck. They had been sitting for too long.

“You should appreciate your freedom, Trevor, and try to feel gratitude. Our college is letting you do whatever you want, and you can start any type of life that you’d like afterward. It’s an opportunity to change your life, and explore your desires.” Adrian was serious, his eyes on Trevor. _This guy is something else._

“You’re really intense for a nineteen-year-old,” Trevor remarked, taking another drag. Adrian looked away, thinking about something. 

“I do appreciate the full ride. I do. That’s why I study. That’s why I do hockey even when I’m sick of it. And that’s why I go to fucking study groups with Dracula’s son, even though I’d rather be strangling you, probably,” Trevor smirked, no malice in his words. Adrian laughed, a low sound in his throat. 

“You should start thinking about your future, Belmont. You’ve been given a blessing of the freedom to choose your own fate, so enjoy it. Go online, research careers you're interested in. Shadow someone. Think about what you’d want to do when you wake up, ten, twenty years from now. You’re,” Adrian paused, tipping his head back and exhaling smoke slowly, “You’re so fucking lucky, honestly. Having that much freedom to do what you want.” Trevor could tell he meant it, and for once, he didn’t feel like punching him. He couldn’t imagine having to live his life under Dracula’s heel, however expensive the boot. 

“Yeah. I guess so. You’re right, I should choose what I want to do.” He dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out. Adrian followed suit.

“Maybe I’ll be a stripper…” Trevor muttered too-seriously as they walked back inside, making Adrian burst out in unceremonious laughter.

**A/N: Review, please!**

**You guys, I have finals next week but I can't stop writing this fanfic. Please at least give me some love so I can feel validated for humoring you with this story.**

**P.S. I live in NYC, and some of these stories are actually real. Not Avenues, specifically, (please don't come for me!) but the stories in this chapter are actually from people I know who went to Manhattan private schools. So that's something. We're in realistic fiction, I guess.**


	6. Cold Winter Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instagram stalking, group texting, and conspiracy theories abound.

On a freezing February night, Trevor lay in Sypha’s bed while she ate a microwaved dinner at her desk. It was snowing outside, and neither of them felt like doing much of anything. He had given up on his homework a while ago, opting to hang out with his best friend inside. He rolled over on her bed. Sypha’s side of the dorm room was vibrant and eclectic. Colors, artwork, and her things covered everything until the white walls weren’t even visible. Her bedding was bohemian, with a magenta and navy floral print. She had pink, yellow, and lavender pillows piled up, making it a very cozy place for Trevor laid down. The wall was totally covered with her photos, inspirational quotes, and the album covers from her favorite indie and pop bands. Rebel Yell, the Strokes, Vampire Weekend, Lana Del Rey, Blondie, and Alicia Keys pictures were plastered all over the place. Her little bookshelf was stuffed with keepsakes, cheap treasures, books, and costume jewelry. She had strung little white lights all over the top of her side, making the whole area a warm, loving, and inviting space. A space for Sypha.

In truth, Trevor loved it when she let him come over. It gave him a sense of home… even though he didn’t really have one. One night a while back, when he had been drinking, he confessed this to her. Sypha had told him that home is an idea. Home is in the people you love, not the things you own. He hadn’t said so, but Trevor liked hearing that. He liked hearing that she encouraged him to think of her as his home.

“What are you doing, Treffi?” She asked, using her inside nickname for him. She was curled up in a fuzzy blanket at her desk chair in front of her Mac, hands wrapped around a cup of tea. 

“Just browsing social media. I’m bored.” He answered quietly. Her roommate was studying with headphones on the other side. Sypha smacked his foot a little.

“Get your big stinky feet away from me,” she teased. Trevor waved one around in her face for a second, smirking, before he pulled it back. She gagged and went back to writing her history paper. After a while, Trevor spoke up.

“Hey,” he interjected, “...What’s Adrian’s Instagram?” Trevor tried to ask it as casually as possible but Sypha smirked at him regardless, challenging him with a sidewards glance.

"Why?” She asked comically, sipping her green tea.

“I just want to see what he posts.” He didn’t look at her. Sypha was still smirking, looking at her phone to pull up his handle. 

“It’s a.tepes.”

“Okay,” Trevor muttered, searching. He pulled up Adrian’s Instagram. The first thing he noticed was the follower count. 

**{adrian f. tepes}** Following: 139

artist, traveler, musician Followers: 14,409

cat lover Posts: 792

bibliophile

“He has 14,000 followers?” Trevor gasped, sitting up in bed. Sypha chuckled.

“I knew that would make you angry. That’s why I didn’t give you his insta before… What do you expect? He’s gorgeous and wealthy. Of course, he has a lot of followers. I bet lots of people follow him just to look at him. He’s like a… I don’t know. A statue? An angel? Whatever- he’s extremely attractive.” Sypha thought, eyes drifting off, thinking about him. Trevor scowled but didn’t rebuke her because he couldn’t. 

“Who is?” Her roommate, Ashley, asked from the desk on the opposite side of the room, turning over her shoulder.

“Adrian Tepes, Vlad Dracula’s son.” 

Ashley nodded, turning around.

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t hear your whole conversation because I was listening to music. I follow him on Instagram. He's hot. Wait, are you friends with him?” She asked, shocked. Trevor made a face.

“Fuck no!” He protested abruptly.

“Trevor… ugh. We have a study group with him. For CIS.”

“Oh. Interesting. Well, you’re right. He’s a work of art. I had biology with him in freshman semester.” Trevor frowned.

“Did you talk to him?” Sypha asked, curious.

“No. He… I don’t know, he doesn’t seem that approachable. He’s too smart and good looking, I guess. He probably would just ignore me. I’d get nervous talking to someone that wealthy and important, honestly... Plus, people say his dad’s a bad guy- I mean, people gossip, so I don’t know if it’s true, but I heard something about drugs, Illuminati, Freemasons, and- huh - I guess I stayed away from him because of that.” Trevor laughed.

"Smart woman, there. Dracula is in the Freemasons." He confirmed. Sypha rolled her eyes.

“You don’t actually believe in that shit, do you?” Sypha asked her roommate, making a face.

“What, the Illuminati? Maybe that’s not the word for it, but yeah, I believe that there are probably tight-knit groups controlling everything in the world. Did you know that the wealthiest people on Earth, you’ve probably never heard of? I saw it on Shane Dawson’s channel and it kind of freaked me out. But then I thought about some of the rich kids on campus. Some of them, no one knows who their parents are, but they have billions of dollars. They dress normally, act normally, stay out of the spotlight, but they’re richer than all the Kardashians combined. I believe they could be running things secretly, out of the public’s eye. Controlling the world.”

“I believe it! You’re right about the rich people controlling things,” Trevor added, speaking up suddenly, “they control everything. The proof is everywhere. It's called the New World Order, and it's real. Just look it up... I know stuff. Trust me." He sat up, pulling a knee to his chest.

“Trevor’s family used to have a really successful tech company in the 90s and early 2000s. Belmont Industries. They were rich.” Sypha explained, and Ashley nodded.

“Yeah, my house had one of your family’s computers. A big desktop one, in like 2003. So sorry again, about your family and everything-”

“Uhm, thanks but - Let’s change the subject.” He interrupted. Awkward tension filled the room before Sypha and Ashley talked for a bit and went back to studying. Meanwhile, Trevor went back to studying Adrian’s Instagram. Everything was perfect, poised, sophisticated. The pictures were carefully curated and arranged. Shots of his face that looked like actual headshots, each one with several thousand likes. Black and white, color, filtered. Every single one looked like it belonged in a magazine or a museum. Him, sitting on a stoop, looking into the distance, perfect hair rumpled. Him, at a modern-looking restaurant, staring into the camera. Him, in his fucking Rolls-Royce, dressed in a perfect black designer outfit from head to toe, showing off his unbelievably long and elegant legs. _Fucking pretty boy._

There were other photos, too, highlighting his artwork, his fashion, his vacations. London, Switzerland, Seoul, Jakarta. Turned towards the sea on his daddy’s yacht. Sipping Prosecco on a balcony in Portofino. There was one particularly hot one of him in Tokyo wearing some artsy Dolce & Gabbana tracksuit in the rain-soaked red light district. The red lanterns and neon street signs lit up his face and hair so he glowed red, his flawless skin practically palpable through the photo. _God._

Trevor began to notice that pretty much every single one of his photos were of himself or void of people at all. That struck him as odd. There was only one photo of him with a friend, some handsome African guy wearing Prada at a fancy club in Manhattan. _Boyfriend?_ Trevor wondered. The man’s arm was around Adrian, the other holding a martini glass. He didn’t know. Trevor wasn’t sure if he was straight or gay, bi or asexual. He couldn’t tell if he had friends or none at all. The club looked pretty elite given the classy atmosphere and rich clientele. The only other photo with a person was a mother’s day photo with the lovely Lisa Tepes, pretty much the same in the looks department. Trevor would be drooling if it wasn’t for Dracula’s $50,000 wedding ring on her finger. They appeared to be at brunch somewhere in the city. It was the only picture with Adrian smiling, although he was only smiling shallowly. Looking over all his photos, Trevor couldn’t help but wonder if he was lonely. And sad. His mother looked happy next to him, beaming and showing off her perfect, white teeth. But Adrian wasn’t. _Maybe he just tries to look cool? Maybe it’s - I don’t know - some sort of act? Rich bastard aesthetic or something?_ Trevor bit his lip, thinking. To be honest, he had been thinking about him a lot. Scrolling down, he went through some older photos. One caught his eye. It was him, shirtless, at a beach somewhere in Greece. _Fuck. Me._ He groaned inwardly at the sight of his long, athletic body, chiseled pectorals, toned arms, and legs. His swim trunks were low on his hips, showing off the very attractive ‘v’ of his pelvis. He was so beautiful it hurt. He gritted his teeth at the feeling of blood flowing down to his lower regions. Trevor hated himself for loving that photo so much. He wished he could crawl on top of him, in honesty. Adrian’s hair was sandy and a bit messy, beach waves attractively falling over his broad shoulders and down his back. _It looks like a damn Hollister ad. Who the hell is taking these pictures?_ If Trevor didn’t hate him so much, he'd have been sliding into Adrian’s DMs right then. Without any conscious thought, he liked the picture and moved on, checking out other profiles. 

“Are you still looking at his pictures? Stop drooling and do your homework,” Sypha chided. Trevor wasn’t sure if she was joking, or if she really thought he was bi, but either way, he scoffed. _Does she know-? I can’t tell if she’s joking or not._

“No. I don’t like him. He’s stuck up.”

“He’s not that bad. Give him a chance,” she muttered, “Anyway, you need to do your work! Don’t you have a quiz tomorrow?” He sighed.

“Yeah, I do. I’ll go study.” Trevor pulled himself off her bed, grabbing his bag and coat.

“Have a good night! See you soon,” Sypha smiled at him on his way out the door.

“Goodnight,” he returned, heading down the hall. He walked through the breezy commons and collapsed in his dorm bed, slipping off his shoes. His roommate was showering, so Trevor thought it would be a good time to check Tinder. That way he had privacy. He pursed his lips, filtering through the profiles. There was a lot more going on on Tinder because school had started up again. Lots of pretty girls back in town. He chatted with a few and went back to swiping. Suddenly, something caught his attention. It was a photo of Adrian, shirt open, leaning against a balcony, the next, him posing in some designer outfit. Trevor gasped. _No way! He’s on Tinder? And if he’s on my feed… then - he’s gay? Was he just being really friendly with Sypha?_ But what was more strange was the name at the bottom of the screen. 

“Who the hell is Alucard?” He said out loud in the darkness of his dorm room. _Alucard? What the fuck? Is it a fake profile?_ He wondered. Then he read the bio and he knew it was him.

**Alucard | 19**

Artist, violinist, amateur fencer.

Frequently in NYC. 

Not looking for hookups. 

_What? Not looking for hookups? What is he looking for? A love connection? On Tinder? And why is he using that weird ass fake name?_ Trevor swiped to the last photo which had Adrian, leg up, leaning against a wall of a building in Manhattan. He was wearing a dark suit and looking away, his elegant profile highlighted in black and white. It looked like a James bond poster. _Jesus this guy is weird. Who’s that serious in a Tinder profile?_ Suddenly, his phone dinged - an Instagram DM notification. Trevor scowled, clicking on it.

[ a.tepes want to send you a message ]

a.tepes (11:03 pm) Are you stalking me, Belmont?

Trevor’s face shifted into one of sheer panic. _Fuck! Fuck! How does he even know that?_ He started breathing heavily, his heart pounding, fearing that he had somehow been caught in the act.

trevorbelmont (11:03 pm) What the fuck are you talking about

a.tepes (11:04 pm) I just saw that you liked a shirtless picture of me from two years ago. Something you want to tell me? 

_Shit! Shit! No, no, no, no, no. I didn’t. Did I?_ He freaked out, looking back at Adrian’s profile. Sure enough, the little heart was there. He had liked his two-year-old beach photo without noticing. 

“Dammit to hell!” He choked, pounding his hand into the bed. Trevor wanted to die. _How do I explain this? Shit - now he’s going to think I’m obsessed with him or something. I have to cover this up. Now._

trevorbelmont (11:05 pm) Oh, Sypha had my phone… that wasn’t me

a.tepes (11:05 pm) So Sypha has your phone, this late at night, and she liked one of my two-year-old pictures? Why? As a joke?

_Fuck me. Agh!_ Trevor grunted, going to the minifridge to grab a beer. He called Sypha, tucking his phone between his ear and his shoulder, cracking the beer open and taking a big sip.

“Hey! Sypha? I - I need you to do something for me please.”

“What is it?” She sounded groggy.

“I - Fuck. I accidentally liked one of Adrian’s old pictures, completely by accident, and now he thinks I’m a stalker or something.”

“Aren’t you, though? How far back was the photo?” He took a big swig.

“... Two years.” Sypha gasped loudly.

“Two years?! You went through two years of photos? He posts all the time. You must have been looking at his profile for-”

“I know. I know! It’s bad. Look- I need you to cover for me, please. Please tell him it was a joke or something, that we were drinking and you pranked me by liking it. Please,” he wheezed, sounding a bit desperate. Sypha laughed her ass off on the other side of the line.

“Sypha! Please go along with it. I’m going to tell him you were pranking me, back me up. Please, come on. I got bubble tea for you, I give you back massages all the time, and I - I told your grandfather that you were at the yoga studio last year when you were actually passed out, crossed, on my bed.” He referenced the night they had gone to a party on campus and she had indulged in both vodka cranberries and edibles. She sighed.

“Fine. I’ll go along with it. Just this once.” Trevor smiled.

“Thank you! Thank you.” He hung up, going back to his phone.

trevorbelmont (11:08 pm) Sypha was pranking me. She’s laughing her ass off about it now, sorry, she’s a little gremlin who likes to start trouble

trevorbelmont (11:09 pm) You can ask her, she’ll tell you that’s the truth

a.tepes (11:09 pm) Hmm. Okay, then.

After that, things improved drastically for the group. Adrian shrugged it off as a gaff and moved on, never bringing it up again. The trio began studying regularly together, in cafes, or at the library. Trevor was starting to hate Adrian slightly less, but neither discussed much other than the project and school life. Sypha enjoyed having a third in the group, pleased that Trevor was starting to ease up on Adrian a little. The awkwardness was fading, and she was growing happier. Three weeks passed that way, with all of them becoming more comfortable with one another. 

[ study group ;) ]

Sypha (8:45 pm) hey guys, what’s up?? 

Adrian (8:50 pm) I just finished studying for the night. I think I’m going to watch a movie now. What about you?

Sypha (8:51 pm) I did some yoga, and took a shower… now i'm reading in bed

Sypha (8:52 pm) Hey Trevor, watcha doinn?

Trevor (8:53 pm) just got home from practice. I’m going to finish my homework and take a shower. After I finish this fucking assignment 

Trevor (8:53 pm) what is an independent variable again?

Sypha (8:54 pm) El burro sabe mas que tu! ((A donkey knows more than you!))

Adrian (8:54 pm) Haha

Trevor (8:54 pm) You know I have google translate right? Shut up sypha

Adrian (8:55 pm) An independent variable is what the experimenter changes in an experiment. It’s a variable that doesn’t depend upon another.

Trevor (8:55 pm) thanks

Sypha (8:55 pm) How was practice, Trevor? 

Trevor (8:56 pm) It was fine, but i'm kinda tired

Sypha (8:58 pm) We should figure out when we’re going to work on the project, guys..

Adrian (9:03 pm) I just looked at the syllabus. The next portion of the project is due on the 17th, this Monday. That means we have to get it done tomorrow. 

Trevor (9:04 pm) Are you fucking serious? On a sunday? I have an all-american right to dedicate sunday to our lord and father jesus christ

Sypha (9:05 pm) lmao 

Adrian (9:05 pm) You’re free to worship Jesus in the morning, Trevor. But in the afternoon tomorrow, we should meet and work on the next assignment for the website. 

Sypha (9:10 pm) So tomorrow is President’s Day and everything is closed :( The cafe, the library. Where should we meet up?

Adrian (9:15 pm) You two can come over to my place, if you want. I have a dining table, so we can all spread out and have some peace and quiet. 

Trevor (9:16 pm) only if you supply vodka

Sypha (9:20 pm) Trevor!! We’re going to study, not to get down and dirty

Trevor (9:21 pm) well that’s disappointing

Adrian (9:22 pm) We can drink after we finish the assignment. Are you two alright with studying at my place? We have a lot to do, so how about 11? That way Trevor can go to church first.

Sypha (9:23 pm) That sounds great! Thank you

Trevor (9:25 pm) sure

Adrian (9:27 pm) Alright, my driver says he can pick you up at the front entrance at 11:00. He’ll let you into the building. See you tomorrow.

Trevor (9:50 pm) anybody want to go to church with me tomorrow morning

Adrian (9:55 pm) God, no. But if you’re in need of some religious stimulation, might I suggest a video: [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kppx4bzfAaE ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kppx4bzfAaE)

Sypha (10:00 pm) whaaat is that real omg 

Sypha (10:01 pm) is this real?? That’s hilarious but SO offensive

Adrian (10:02 pm) It is.

Trevor (10:21 pm) Wow. Not Church of Christ, but that’s one hell of a video

**A/N: This is a connecting chapter. I needed it to buffer the next one. Hope you enjoyed, at least. Leave a comment, please!**


	7. Adrian's Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor and Sypha go to Adrian's apartment, which astounds them both. 
> 
> Here's a long chapter. Sit back, relax, grab a snack, 'cause here we go...

**Adrian's Outfit**

Sweatshirt: [https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/kenzo-embroidered-dragon-sweatshirt-item-14426353.aspx?fsb=1&size=22&storeid=11830&utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_keywordid=119357709&utm_shoppingproductid=14426353-76&pid=google_search&af_channel=Search&c=2069781564&af_c_id=2069781564&af_siteid=&af_keywords=aud-369354889887:pla-296396021419&af_adset_id=79320100314&af_ad_id=277393252796&af_sub1=119357709&af_sub5=14426353-76&is_retargeting=true&shopping=yes&gclid=CjwKCAjwqdn1BRBREiwAEbZcR246-T4a1NG1amBdmACXFzInmmmxEWk-fZXqBDlK6TNH6d9WDgHN9RoC_foQAvD_BwE](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/kenzo-embroidered-dragon-sweatshirt-item-14426353.aspx?fsb=1&size=22&storeid=11830&utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_keywordid=119357709&utm_shoppingproductid=14426353-76&pid=google_search&af_channel=Search&c=2069781564&af_c_id=2069781564&af_siteid=&af_keywords=aud-369354889887:pla-296396021419&af_adset_id=79320100314&af_ad_id=277393252796&af_sub1=119357709&af_sub5=14426353-76&is_retargeting=true&shopping=yes&gclid=CjwKCAjwqdn1BRBREiwAEbZcR246-T4a1NG1amBdmACXFzInmmmxEWk-fZXqBDlK6TNH6d9WDgHN9RoC_foQAvD_BwE)

Shoes: [ https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/palm-angels-recovery-lace-up-sneakers/product/0400011947372?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306648231&R=8052788288578&P_name=Palm+Angels&N=306648231&bmUID=n7mAgkV ](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/palm-angels-recovery-lace-up-sneakers/product/0400011947372?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306648231&R=8052788288578&P_name=Palm+Angels&N=306648231&bmUID=n7mAgkV)

**Adrian’s Apartment Inspiration: (not in this location, but based off this building and apartment)**

[ https://www.apartments.com/waterline-square-luxury-rentals-new-york-ny/yz2z1qv/ ](https://www.apartments.com/waterline-square-luxury-rentals-new-york-ny/yz2z1qv/)

(the full furniture list for the apartment is down at the bottom, in case any of you are dying to buy Adrian's Chanel ashtray...)

* * *

At eleven am the next day, Trevor and Sypha stood at the front entrance of Wallachia University where the main driveway was. Sypha was shivering in the snow, rubbing her mittens together. Her brown hand-me-down coat was a bit too big for her, but her pink hat and mittens made her look cute, not frumpy. Trevor noticed her shivering and wrapped his arm around her to warm her up.

“Pretty cold out here,” he muttered, stroking her arm to warm her. Sypha turned and smiled at him, cheeks rosy in the frosty morning air. 

“Thanks…” she leaned in, kissing him on the stubbly cheek. Trevor felt warmer instantly, looking out at the road instead of her cute face, knowing he would be tempted to kiss her on the lips. An elegant black Rolls-Royce turned the corner.

“It’s here.” He called out, bending down to pick up his backpack. 

“Yay! Heated seats.” She hopped a little, excited for the ride in Adrian’s moving palace. The driver came out of the front seat, moving to the other side of the large car.

“Good morning, Mr. Belmont. Ms. Belnades, how are you?” Eduardo asked amiably. Trevor startled at the formality. 

“Hi.” _Mr. Belmont? At what point did he tell his driver my last name?_

“Hello, I’m good, thank you. Eduardo, is it?” Sypha grinned as he opened the door of the backseat for them.

“Yes. You have a good memory.” He closed the car door behind them. Sypha slid into the heated backseat with a sigh. _So this is what it’s like to be a billionaire? I’m so used to walking everywhere and freezing my ass off. This is… amazing._ He sighed in relief at the warmth of the car, trying to ignore the fact that it was Dracula’s. The ride was peaceful and quick, accented by the light classical music playing on the surround sound. Trevor watched through the tinted window as they pulled up to a brand new apartment building, one he had never seen before, in the part of town that was just starting to be developed. It was tall, and composed mostly of glass. The driver pulled into the valet driveway and let them out, opening the door.

“Adrian’s apartment is #100 on the top floor. The elevators are down the hall,” he said, closing the car door behind them, “Have a wonderful day.”

“You too. Thank you.”

“Thanks.” They walked into the building. The entrance was all glass and white stone, and the lobby was large. The floors were polished marble. Various tables and sleek, modern furniture lined the entrance. It looked like no one had ever even sat in them. They were too perfect, too new. A modern white concierge desk was further on, attractively styled. They walked towards the two elevators at the back and entered one. Trevor pushed the button for 14, the penthouse floor.

“Swanky,” Sypha commented, tucking her mittens and hat in her bag.

“He’s a billionaire, Sypha, what did you expect?” Trevor hated this. He hated the fact that the Tepes family had everything, and he had almost nothing at all. Only Sypha and $700 in the bank. They got off on the top floor. The long, lowly lit hallway had only two doors because there were only two apartments on the whole floor, #100 and #101. Sypha rang the bell for #100.

“Hello.” Adrian opened the door,

“Hi, Adrian. Thanks so much for sending your driver to pick us up. How are you?” Sypha beamed. They went on to chat, and Trevor looked him up and down. He wore a slightly oversized black KENZO sweatshirt with a vibrant embroidered dragon over tight red jogger pants. Trevor scowled as he looked down and saw Adrian’s unusual black glossy sneakers. _What the fuck are those?_

“You look like a damn alien,” he spat out comically. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment. And we’ve been over this, haven’t we? You don’t understand fashion, Trevor. They’re Palm Angels.”

“Yeah, shut up, Trevor. He looks really cool. I like the shoes.” She looked down at the shiny things. Her own Target lace-up boots had seen better days.

“Thanks. Can I take your coat?” Adrian offered, and Sypha handed it to him, walking down the entry hallway. In the hallway, there was a giant floor mirror and a white catch-all table. An essential oil diffuser sat on top, making the whole place smell like sandalwood. 

“Mmm. It smells great in here,” she noticed, inhaling deeply. Trevor inhaled too. _Much better than my room that probably smells like dirty socks, sweat, and Cheetos._

“Thanks, it’s that sandalwood and incense diffuser thing.” 

Trevor looked at the opposing wall, which was dominated by a huge black and white ASAP Rocky x DIOR canvas print. He leaned back, confused. _Who has artwork like this? A pimp? Or is that actually high fashion and I just have no idea?_ Adrian took Trevor’s faded coat next, putting it in the closet. They dropped their backpacks on the table in the hallway, walking forward into the main area.

“Oh. My. God. Your apartment is stunning!” 

She was right. In the living room and dining room, everything was sparkling white luxury. From the all-white kitchen and island to the walls and barstools. Massive floor to ceiling windows bathed the place in bright light. The ceilings were high and everything inside was modern to the max. The floor was light brown polished hardwood. 

“There’s so much space. And it’s all so clean and beautiful. Wow.” She continued, looking around. Trevor and Adrian followed behind. 

“Thank you. It’s a new building.”

The large grey velvet sectional and sitting chair dominated the living area, topped with pillows in dark teal. The coffee table was mirrored glass, decorated with a stack of large books and a few modern decorations; black and white artistic objects of varying types. The end table looked like a huge chunk of natural silver, topped with glass. The chunky thing almost seemed like a root. It stood out intensely in the room. But not as much as the deep, shaggy dark teal rug that everything rested upon. Below the large wall-mounted TV there sat a massive silver console cabinet. On top of which, there were some artistic decorations and various gemstones, interspersed with modern photo frames. Sleek white and glass floor lamps adorned the area.

“This is… extravagant,” Trevor muttered, kind of stuck in a state of shock at the obvious wealth. It was one thing to know, but it was another thing to see. He turned around. 

“Did you design this?” Sypha asked, touching the softness of the velvet sofa.

“Yes, I did. Do you like it?” He smiled, watching her appreciate his design.

“It’s… stunning. I’ve never seen an apartment like this in my life,” she said, awe-inspired, “Your view is amazing, too.” On one side was the city in the distance, and on the other side, the snow-topped forest. The apartment sat on a hill, and Adrian’s penthouse was up pretty high, so the view went for a couple of miles.

“I appreciate it. Do either of you want something to drink?” Adrian asked, moving to the all-white kitchen. Appliances all blended into the surface. Only Adrian’s little potted plants and coffee machine stuck out against the polished white surfaces. The kitchen island appeared to be a huge chunk of white marble embedded into the floor. Several barstools sat at the edge and a wide kitchen sink took up the center. Surprisingly, he actually had a few things on top of the island. His phone, wallet, and a few papers. It was the only thing that made the place look like a real home and not a showroom.

“Sure. What do you have?” Sypha asked. Adrian extended his hand.

“Take a seat, please,” he offered the barstools, and they both sat down, stunned by the place. They watched him open the fridge and look through the contents. If it wasn’t open, it looked like more cabinetry. 

“Let’s see… coconut water, barley tea, sparkling water, natural lemonade, soy milk, fresh orange juice, pomegranate juice, and some green juice,” he listed off item after item in the fridge door. Sypha’s eyes blew wide.

“And for hot drinks,” he moved to open a cupboard drawer, “I have green, black, and peppermint tea. Matcha. And of course coffee if you want,” he pointed to the Nespresso machine. Sypha made a face and Trevor just blinked, both silent. Adrian turned around and chuckled at their expressions.

“Did I overwhelm you?” He asked, leaning against the countertop, looking beautiful as always. Sypha laughed.

“...It’s like I’m at the Ritz” she wheezed, unbelieving.

“I’ll take a black coffee. Thanks,” Trevor sighed, pulling out his phone. Seeing the ostentatious wealth in Adrian’s lifestyle, he felt like he was back to hating the guy, if only because it was Dracula that was providing this wealth for him. Trevor tried to swallow the feeling. He knew none of this was really Adrian’s fault. After all, he had basked in his parent’s own wealth when he was a child too. But because of the injustice he felt, it was difficult to not be resentful.

“Um, I’ll try matcha?” Sypha asked. Adrian nodded, preparing one for her. _What does that even mean?_

“Ooh, it’s good.” Sypha hummed, sipping the green drink. After a while, Trevor got up and looked for any wine in the fridge, finding none at all.

“Hey! Where’s the alcohol you promised?” He looked over his shoulder at an unenthused Adrian.

“It’s eleven in the morning,” he answered dryly.

“Okay, yeah. But later this afternoon, you said we could drink.” Trevor insisted.

“Will you stop being so much of an alcoholic? You don’t need to drink every day of the week.” Sypha sounded exasperated. Trevor leaned back, mock offended.

“I don’t! I take off Mondays through Wednesdays.” He said proudly like it was a big accomplishment. _Better than it used to be._

“The alcohol’s in here,” Adrian explained, opening the wine cooler that blended into the cupboards. Inside there were many different bottles chilling. Trevor smiled, walking around the island to see what he had.

“I have red, white, and sparkling wines. Prosecco. One bottle of vodka, one of tequila, and oh - limoncello that I brought back from Italy.” He listed off. Trevor was almost squirming with excitement. He grinned, looking at the various, high-quality bottles.

“So, do you have a fake? You’re 19, right? How do you get all this?” Sypha asked, peering over to look inside. Adrian shut the door of the wine cooler and leaned against the counter.

“Ah, I didn’t buy it, actually... I have a housekeeper.” 

“He means servant.” Trevor chimed in, to which Adrian rolled his eyes.

“So your housekeeper does all your grocery shopping and cleans the place and everything?” Sypha wondered, sipping Matcha. _Lucky little bitch._

“Pretty much…” he changed the subject, “I have some mint and limes, so we could make Mojitos if you want... _Later_ ,” he added strongly before Trevor got any ideas. They nodded and Adrian walked over to the CTC media console, putting on a Daniel Caesar record. The record player was right in front of the windows, and his whole body practically glowed in the light. Sypha spotted a printed ticket on the island.

ADRIAN FAHRENHEIT TEPES 2/29/2018

9:15 AM Boarding Time

New York, USA - Tokyo, JAP

JFK - HND 

BRITISH AIRWAYS

FIRST CLASS AIR Seat 2B

“Adrian, are you going on a trip?” She asked, gesturing to the ticket. He turned towards her, blinking.

“Oh, yeah. I’m going to Tokyo next weekend. With my father,” he explained. Trevor scowled. 

“For only one weekend? Why?” Trevor asked, skeptically. 

“Uh, For business. I accompany my father on business trips pretty often. Tokyo, Seoul, Kyoto, Jakarta, L.A, Sydney, London, and sometimes Paris. But mostly - we go to the far East. That’s where the business is booming. We check out the new stores, have meetings, and do other things.” Sypha was shocked, her mouth open. She leaned against the countertop.

“Wow. Tokyo, Sydney, London. You go all over the world,” she said in awe.

“Why do you go with him?” Trevor asked, distrustful as always.

“Because he wants me to... I - I have to. It’s fine,” Adrian explained, his voice quiet and guarded. Trevor and Sypha were both quiet for a moment, thinking about the eccentric billionaire and his quiet, reticent son. Adrian wasn’t looking at them.

“It’s fun sometimes. But the jet lag can be really bad. Especially when we go to Tokyo, which is where we go most often.” He hated jet lag, but he had gotten used to it.

“Why don’t you go on a private jet?” Trevor asked dryly and sardonically.

“Dad thinks it’s a waste of money, so we fly commercial. I fly from Rochester to JFK and my father meets me in the lounge, then we get on a flight together. It’s a pretty regular thing for us.” He explained, putting the ticket in a Louis Vuitton organizer. 

“Do you ever have one of those little suites, like, a seat with total privacy? I saw a YouTube video about that.” Sypha wondered, eyes gleaming, wondering what it would be like to have his wealth. Adrian chuckled. 

“Pretty often, yeah. It’s nice, I suppose.”

“Have you ever flown coach, even?” Trevor asked harshly.

“No... Only business or first class. But my father buys all my tickets and tells me where to go. It’s not like I’m refusing to fly coach.”

“Yeah, okay, I just don’t understand - why do you with him? If you’re going to be a neurosurgeon? What’s the point of going with him?” Sypha asked. Adrian didn’t look her in the eye, focusing on arranging his papers. 

“I go with him because I have to. When my father tells someone to do something, it’s not really an option at all. It’s mandatory… He wants me to take over the company when he’s gone. He thinks he can convince me to do it. I’m pretty sure he assumes after a while I’ll crack and switch my major to software engineering or business management.”

“Will you?” Sypha asked. Adrian’s face was very serious for a moment, his features lost and far away. He was guarded and sad, as still as a statue for the moment.

“I’ll see. I - I may. If I need to, I will.” And that was all he said, walking away.

“Wait - why doesn’t Dracula just tell you to take those as majors? Why doesn’t he just make it mandatory for you to take over CTC?” Trevor wondered. Adrian let out a breath, annoyed by all the questions.

“Because my mom wouldn’t let him do that. It’s complicated. She would never be okay with me having no choices at all… But really, it’s- it’s just an illusion of choice. I either have to be a doctor or run the company. That’s it.” Adrian looked out the huge window for a second at the city laid out before him before turning around and completely changing the topic.

“Would you like a quick tour before we begin?” He asked, smiling, his handsome face lighting up. Trevor and Sypha looked at each other. Trevor shrugged.

“Sure!” She smiled, getting down off the barstool. Trevor followed suit, sipping his cup of coffee and squinting in the bright light. 

“Can you put the shades down a little bit? The sun is just about blinding me,” Trevor requested. Adrian nodded, going into the hallway and clicking on the control tablet embedded into the wall. He tapped the screen a couple of times and the screens automatically came down halfway. _Fancy tech shit._

“So, this is the living area. I saw this rug, and I loved the peacock color so much, I decided to do the living room and the office based on this accent color.”

“It’s beautiful.” Sypha walked around, looking at everything. The deep blue-green color was unusual and very stylish. 

“What the hell is that?” Trevor asked, pointing to the end table which looked like a hunk of silver-coated tree roots cut into a square and topped with glass.

“It’s - modern furniture.”

“I like it,” Sypha was ever-positive, smiling. She loved seeing such a gorgeous and artistic space. Adrian smirked.

“Thanks. I like incorporating some unusual pieces. Especially natural ones. These are some of my favorite gemstones, and a few things I’ve picked up while traveling.” Trevor noticed the photos of Adrian with his parents on the table, and he frowned. His father was smiling in most of the photos, holding his young son or his wife. Sypha noticed them too.

“Wow, your mom is so gorgeous. You look just like her, Adrian.” She noted, to which Adrian smiled fully. He glanced at the picture.

“Thank you,” he blushed, walking away. Sypha set the photograph down.

“This is the dining area. I wanted to do it pretty modern.” The dining room was accented by a matching dark teal wall, covered with modern art line drawings and strange sketches. 

The dining table was large, glass, and topped with a black runner. Sleek white chairs were tucked neatly into the table, sitting on a uniquely patterned silver and white rug. An unusual chandelier hung over top, consisting of silver squares within squares. It looked like it was in movement. 

“Are those drawings yours?” Sypha asked. Adrian looked up at the collage of black and white framed drawings covering the wall.

“A couple. There and there,” he pointed to a sketch of a person and one of a sword and skull with roses.

“The others are by this French artist, DZO Oliver. I was researching tattoo art and I found his work, and I just fell in love with his drawings, so I bought a ton of them. I couldn’t resist. They’re so inspiring and darkly unique. I love all his elements: passion, philosophy, angst, sexuality, horror...” The black and white sketches were indeed very unique and passionate, composed of complicated messes of people, strange creates, and unique symbology.

“You’re definitely a Scorpio, aren’t you?” Sypha muttered, looking over the dark and dramatic sketches. Adrian scowled because he never told her his birthday.

“I don’t follow horoscopes at all. They seem a little ridiculous... What are the traits of a Scorpio supposed to be?” He challenged skeptically. 

“Male Scorpios are mysterious, mature, focused, ambitious, highly passionate, intense, sexual, deeply reflective, intuitive, overindulgent sometimes, very emotional, and… brooding.” Sypha answered confidently, turning to give him a look that said ‘you know I’m right’. Adrian blinked, and then pursed his lips. 

“Hm… well, that is my sign. You’re right. Still not sure I entirely believe in astrology, though,” he mumbled, looking away uncomfortably after she had listed off every one of his personality traits. Sypha and Trevor both started to chuckle.

“Yeah, that’s not you at all,” Trevor commented sarcastically, “You’re one melodramatic, brooding bastard alright.” Adrian looked offended.

“Hey! Scorpios are great. They’re very loyal to the people they care about.” Sypha pushed, looking back to Adrian who was still in a state of slight shock.

“…I suppose it fits me. What’s his?” Adrian gestured to Trevor. Sypha laughed.

“Taurus. Stubborn as a bull!” Adrian nodded.

“Yeah, he’s pretty stubborn alright.” He walked past the kitchen, through the sliding glass doors.

“We can step out for a second. This is the balcony.” He walked out, exhaling in the cold morning air. The surrounding hill was covered in a layer of snow that had fallen the night before. A black table and chairs sat out on the balcony, with a Coco Chanel ashtray resting on top. 

“You have a Chanel ashtray? Who do you think you are, Audrey Hepburn?” Trevor ribbed, laughing at him. Adrian rolled his eyes, chuckling slowly.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand my aesthetic, Trevor. Besides, didn’t you say you don’t have time for classic movies?” He tossed over his shoulder, heading back inside.

“These are some of my favorite photographs,” Adrian explained, leading them into the hallway past the kitchen. The photographs were awe-inspiring. Uniquely beautiful landscapes, stunning fashion designs on the runway, photos of palaces, and unknown people wearing interesting clothing. Sypha gasped, looking over the wall. Even Trevor was impressed. It was a beautiful display. 

“They’re all amazing. How did you choose these? Did you take some yourself?” Sypha asked, moving around to look at all the artwork. Adrian shook his head.

“I’m not a big photographer myself. The only ones I took are the ones in Paris and Seoul. The rest I purchased.” He revealed, gesturing to a photo of a couple on the lawn in front of the Eiffel tower. One was sleeping on their red and white picnic blanket, and the other was reading, legs up in the air. 

“I took that one,” Adrian muttered.

“That’s so good. They’re adorable. I want to go so badly,” Sypha moaned, fantasizing about Paris. 

“You should. It’s just as amazing as they say it is...” He walked on, opening a tall door, and walking inside.

“This is my office. I designed it around this desk I found in Boston.” The office was large and quite impressive. The left wall was completely covered in one massive black bookcase, stuffed with books and a few knickknacks. The window on the opposing side was mostly covered by white curtains that went all the way to the ceiling, only pulled back to let a little light in at the moment. An eye-catching curved velvet couch sat in front, in the same vibrant peacock color as in the living room. In front, there was a round coffee table that matched the huge black L shaped vintage desk on the right. Adrian’s CTC desktop computer sat on top, in between the many organizers and racks sorting his papers. Some more unusual darkly-themed artwork covered the wall above. The rug was in a modern black, white, and gold print that caught the eye. There were other things too, a table with a printer and a tripod drawing stand.

“I use this room for reading, homework, and drawing,” he explained casually like most young men had similar rooms in their apartments.

“I’ve never seen someone’s office look like this. Everything is so cool! The big couch, the rug, the bookcase. How did you ever design this?” she turned, overwhelmed by the massive thing. Adrian chuckled, tucking some gold hair behind his ear. 

“Thanks, Sypha, that means a lot. I found the couch, and then I designed the rest around it.” It was definitely an unusual couch.

“It sure is… something.” Trevor sighed, looking around.

“You really have an eye for interior design, Adrian. When I finally move out and get my own apartment, want to help me decorate it?” She asked, looking around the room.

“Sure, absolutely,” Adrian obliged happily. He led them out and into the hall again.

“That’s just a guest bath and a laundry room, nothing interesting.” He explained, walking into the bedroom at the end of the hall. 

“This is my bedroom.” It was huge, with warm grey walls and lots of light coming from the same floor to ceiling windows on the far side. A small and very fluffy black cat sat on a low white bench next to the door.

“You have a kitty?” Sypha whispered, trying not to scare it away.

“Yes, this is Morticia,” Adrian smirked, walking over to his cute black cat.

“From the Addams family?” She giggled, and Adrian nodded. He loved that show.

“You’re a weirdo,” Trevor laughed, “Who names their cat Morticia?” 

“People who are creative and funny,” Sypha got after him, leaning down and extending a hand.

“Can I pet her?” Adrian nodded.

“Yeah, but she’s shy. She might run away.” She did after looking at the two strangers. The cat jumped down and scurried under his bed. The King-sized canopy bed dominated the room, with curved posters that looked hand-carved. Trevor marveled at the detail and craftsmanship. The wood of the four-poster bed frame was so dark it looked black, but the bedding was pure white and the curtains that fell around the bed were sheer white chiffon, light as air. It was like something out of a storybook. _What kind of guy has a bed like this? Only Adrian._

On either side of the canopy bed, there was a nightstand, black wood with the same curved posts at the bottom. Tall white lamp shades stood on both sides. There was also a dresser, a black chest, and a mannequin with some sort of designer outfit on it. And on the far side of the room, where the window was, sat a big grey chaise lounge that looked like it actually belonged in a royal palace. An open book lay on the accompanying table. 

“I have no words… this is too beautiful…” she walked around, looking at the artwork, bed, and the stuffed chaise. Trevor sighed. _Suddenly my dorm room feels like shit in comparison._ He ran his hand over the smooth, Ritz-quality white comforter. The massive bed looked like a huge, puffy cloud. _I bet you could get five people in here. Or have one hell of a threesome._

“Do you have a big closet somewhere?” Sypha asked, and Adrian opened a door. 

“Come on in,” he offered, walking them into the closet. It was set up as a square, easily ten feet on each side. An array of clothes and jackets were stored in the in-laid dark wood wardrobes. The whole thing looked like it was made by a real carpenter, and it was bursting with a myriad of designer clothes: Balenciaga, Prada, Balmain, Acne Studios, Louis Vuitton, Versace, Armani, Dior, Moncler, Dolce & Gabbana, Burberry. It inevitably made Trevor want to steal something. _How do you even wear all these clothes?_

There was a floor to ceiling rack of just Adrian’s shoes. Christian Louboutin boots, Gucci loafers, Valentino flats, Chanel sneakers. Trevor touched a few, picking up a particularly unique spiky, red-bottomed loafer. He started to laugh.

“I have never. Ever. Seen a man with more shoes. I bet you have like, fifty pairs.” 

“Ha! You’ve never met my father. I have nothing compared to his collection. He loves shoes.” 

“No Yeezys?” Trevor asked. He knew what those were worth. 

“No, I hate Kanye. He’s a jackass, and his fashion sense is horrible.” Sypha laughed.

“I hate him too.”

“Why do you have so many different suit jackets?” She wondered, looking at the section filled with just suits.

“Oh, I have to wear them to events. Parties and galas, that sort of thing. I usually resell them for much less after a couple of wears. My father doesn’t like me to wear the same thing more than once or twice. He’s very particular…” Adrian drifted, sitting on the large circular tufted ottoman. It was grey, like the chaise lounge in the other room. The low lighting in the closet came from the top of the inside of the cabinets and the spotlights on top. Everything was beautiful. Everything was luxurious.

“Wow. That’s wild. I’ve never seen such an impressive closet,” Sypha muttered, looking at his rows of coats and shirts and pants and jackets. She sighed, a little jealous now.

“Can we see the bathroom? I’m curious…” She asked, walking out the door. 

“Sure. I designed this too.” They ventured into the master bathroom. It was white marble and totally sleek, like the kitchen. A big sink, huge mirror, white tub. There was a wide walk-in shower set in black tile with a stone-pebble floor. It was very modern, with a glass exterior, and a waterfall shower head on the ceiling. Trevor withheld a groan. _What a change that would be from showering in the communal bathroom with fifteen other dirty teenage guys and worrying about getting somebody’s toe fungus._

“So, I wanted to do a Chanel theme. I loved the store in Paris, so I just kind of went for it.” The black rug in front of the bathroom sink had the classic Chanel logo, and the tall vanity stand had a Chanel box on top of it, with bottles of the brand’s cologne on top. The most eye-catching thing, however, was on the wall. In the corner, where the toilet was, a neon electric pink CC Chanel light stood out against the white wall. Trevor’s eyes blew wide. _What the fucking hell is that?_

“Oh my god! So classy... Chic, I love it,” she cooed, “I’d feel like a princess peeing in here.” The boys laughed at that. Trevor peered around intrusively. Cologne, lip balm, bath salts, toothbrush, soaps. Fancy moisturizers. No razorblade.

“Where’s your razor? This looks like a girl’s bathroom.” He made a face. Adrian turned around, blinking absently. 

“Oh, I don’t have one. I got electrolysis last year. I’ll never have a beard again.” Trevor scowled, thinking. Even Sypha raised a brow at that. Trevor just stood in place, looking perplexed for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully.

“Adrian, are you - are you transgender?” He asked softly, not trying to be insulting. Sypha’s eyes went wide, looking at the blond and then back at Trevor. Adrian laughed, much to their surprise. 

“Ah, no, no. I’m not trans. I’m a guy. I just like the finer things in life… I hate having facial hair and shaving. I think it’s gross, and a waste of time, so I just got my beard taken off.” He shrugged, walking out of the room. 

“Anyway, what do you think of the place? Should I switch my major to interior design?” He asked while they walked back to the dining room table.

“Go for it,” Sypha laughed. He was definitely talented.

“I don’t think your Daddy would like that,” Trevor mocked. Sypha changed the subject.

“Where’s all your jewelry? I noticed you wear really nice jewelry.” 

“In a safe,” Adrian answered, quickly and succinctly.

“Afraid your maid will grab something sparkly?” Trevor smirked. Adrian sighed.

“That’s a derogatory term. Maid is a shortened version of the word maidservant. But no, my cleaner doesn’t steal from me. And I’d be more afraid of you taking things Trevor, you’re a self-proclaimed thief.” Adrian tossed back.

“I told you I don’t do that stuff anymore. I’m not gonna take your shit, Tepes. Don’t worry.” He put his hands up, conciliatory. 

“Look, if you really want something, just ask me nicely. I may give it to you,” Adrian smiled, going to get his laptop.

“Okay... Will you buy me a car, please? Pretty please? A red Ferrari?” Trevor pleaded in a mockery of a little girl's voice. Adrian stopped suddenly and turned around. He made a face, squinting. 

“Don’t hate me, but… I have one. I just got one for my birthday.” He admitted, a little guilty. Trevor groaned deeply, almost a yell.

“You. little. bitch. Damn you! A red fucking Ferrari,” he cursed, before changing gears completely, whipping around with eyes full of excitement.

“Can I see it?” He asked out of the blue. Adrian laughed along with Sypha. Trevor was nothing if not entertaining.

“After we turn in the project.” He entered the kitchen and started a coffee for himself.

“What does Dracula drive?” Trevor felt the urge to know what the enemy was riding around in. Adrian tinkered with the Nespresso machine.

“He usually drives a Mercedes-Maybach. It’s just a classic, sleek sedan.” 

“Just a sedan… that’s worth as much as a house.” Trevor rebuked.

“Still not that flashy, though,” Adrian shot back quietly, thinking about all the over-the-top things his classmates and their parents had driven.

“Yeah, but what’s his weekend car? You know, his play car?” Trever asked.

“...a Lamborghini Aventador.” Adrian loved that car, but he knew his father would probably never let him use that one. It was too precious and way too fast.

“I’m gonna look it up,” Sypha said, searching on CTC. She showed the photo to Trevor.

“Jesus Christ. It looks like the Batmobile.” Trevor laughed. _I wish I could hate it, but… that’s a great car._

“Yes, it does. And it drives like the Batmobile, too. It’s - an amazing car.”

“It pays to be evil, doesn’t it?” Trevor posed, this time aloud. He didn’t care about calling Dracula evil, it was in his nature to be vocal about his opinions. Sypha smacked him on the arm lightly, but Adrian said nothing, preparing his latte instead. _No response to that, huh? I’m sure you know a little of the bad dealings your father has been involved in. And the lies._

“Let’s start the project, shall we?” Adrian said, putting his laptop and coffee down on the dining room table. Trevor let it go, and he and Sypha set their stuff up as well. They sat down and got to work on the assignment. 

“Are you feeling like you have a better grasp of the process now? Of the basics?” Adrian asked, meaning coding. Sypha nodded.

“Yeah, it’s starting to make more sense. There’s definitely a logic to it, so I think I’m getting better. I much prefer studying human languages, though…” Sypha answered. Adrian let out a laugh.

“Me too. Definitely. Sypha, what language do you want to take for your requirement?” He asked, meaning the university’s rule that students had to take one year of a language.

“French! What about you?” She asked.

“Japanese, actually.”

“Japanese? Wow. That’s cool.” Sypha tilted her head. Trevor groaned.

“Oh god. Are you a weeaboo? Please lord, tell me you’re not a weeaboo. I can’t take that much freak,” Trevor groaned, making a face. Adrian chuckled.

“No, I’m not a weeaboo. I go to Japan all the time for the business, so it’s very beneficial for me to be able to speak Japanese. I’d like to not have to use a translator all the time. Plus, it’s simply a beautiful language. I love it. And, the films are good, too. I like Miyazaki... But I’ve never gotten really into anime or manga or anything, although maybe I’d try it when I start being able to understand.” Adrian took a sip of his latte, looking up at them.

“I like anime! I’ve only seen one or two, but they were good. I watched Baby and… what’s it called? Neon Genesis Evangelion? My ex liked that stuff, so I would watch it with him sometimes…” she recalled, trying to fix the code on her screen. Adrian kept his eyes on her for a moment. Suddenly his phone rang, a loud sound in the room. Adrian inhaled sharply before he picked it up.

“Hi, Dad,” he answered. Trevor snapped to look at him, eyes widening. _Dracula._ Adrian listened for a while, face impassive.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m coding right now...” Dracula’s voice was too hard to make out.

“Yes, I’m at my place.” Adrian sighed shallowly, looking out the window, listening for a while.

“Um, yeah, I can do that. Tonight?” _What the hell are they talking about?_

“Sure… You want me to look it up now?” He asked, and then set his phone down on the table. Trevor shifted back- as if Dracula would pop out of the phone at any moment.

“Sorry,” he mouthed to Trevor and Sypha, putting the phone on speaker mode.

“I want you to look up the location for me, okay? I’m driving right now.” Dracula ordered, voice calm and smooth. Trevor gritted his teeth at the sound of the man’s voice. _Muckerfucking bastard._ But Trevor knew that he had no real evidence, and pissing off Dracula Tepes was not a good idea, so he remained quiet. He would have to until he had some substantial reason to. Anything else would be foolish.

“Okay, uh -it’s at Tao, uptown. It starts at eight,” Adrian explained, looking at the party invitation in his email. 

“Alright. Be there on time. You don’t have a class that late next Friday, do you?” 

Trevor sneered, lip pulled up at the sound of Dracula’s voice.

“No, I only have a study group in the morning. I’m done at ten-thirty,” he explained. 

“Okay. I’ll get a flight for you that afternoon. Take an Uber or a Taxi right to Tao, okay?”

“Okay. No problem.” Adrian bit his lip.

“And then you’ll come home with us from the party. But we have to be up early in the morning, it’s an early flight.” Trevor could hear him honk on the other side, probably in midmorning Manhattan traffic. _Why is he driving himself?_

“Do you know what you are wearing for the event? I can get you a suit if you need.” Vlad’s voice was quiet. Adrian looked away, thinking.

“I was going to wear the Armani burgundy suit.”

“Oh, that’s good. Did you pack yet?” 

“Not yet. I’m busy this weekend. I’ll pack during the week.” He looked at Sypha, a bit uncomfortably, and then back at the table.

“Well, it’s in the upper forties next weekend. Keep that in mind. And don’t forget to bring what I asked you-” Dracula began, but Adrian picked the phone up quickly. He nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll remember. I’ll see you next Friday.”

“Goodbye.” He clicked off the phone, looking like he was withholding a sigh. There was a long pause, the three of them saying nothing at all.

“I can’t believe that asshole is your father,” Trevor was serious for a moment, devoid of sarcasm. Adrian looked up, scowling at the comment. 

“That would mean you don’t actually think I’m an asshole.” _Shit._

“...I suppose.” Trevor tilted his head, looking into his eyes for a moment.

“Wow, I’m truly touched. Thanks,” Adrian muttered, half-sarcasm, half-truth. 

“You’re welcome,” Trevor smiled. Adrian took a deep breath.

“I’m gonna smoke, I’ll be right back.” Adrian stood from the table, taking a break. First, he fished a pack of Malboros and a lighter out of a kitchen drawer, and then he went to the coat closet and put on a Balmain leather jacket.

“Can I bum one?” Trevor asked, watching him put it on effortlessly. _I wish I could afford that. Looks fucking cool._

“Sure, come out to the balcony.”

It was still pretty cold outside, although some of the snow was melting off. Trevor went out with only his blue sweatshirt on, not minding the cold. Adrian lit his own cigarette before handing Trevor one. Trevor put it between his lips, leaning in and letting Adrian help him light it. 

“Thanks,” he muttered. They walked over to the balcony edge. Pine trees and clear blue skies dominated the view, the cold city of Rochester in the background. A soft breeze whistled through the trees and against the tall building. Trevor liked the scenery. He liked being up high.

“Aren’t you cold?” Adrian asked, looking at Trevor’s thin sweatshirt.

“Not really. Be homeless for a few years and you’ll get used to the cold too.” 

“I know you said not to ask you personal questions… but do you think the free cig will grant me at least one?” Adrian asked quietly, blowing smoke in the other direction.

“Fine. One question.” He squinted, sucking in deeply.

“Why did you end up on the East Coast? Wasn’t Belmont Industries based in California?” 

Trevor looked at him, startled. _Maybe he really doesn’t know anything at all. I suppose he was just a little kid, but I thought maybe Dracula would have told him something. Maybe he thought Adrian was too nice of a kid, and he’d let the secret out? Or, perhaps, it was just an accident... It’s not like I have any proof Dracula really did it._

“Uh, I have a distant relative in Philly. So, I went there after my family died, but he was an abusive son-of-a-bitch, and I took off. I roamed around the coast afterward. Boston, New York, Jersey. Homeless shelters and such. I would just steal to get by. I ended up getting really good at it. But I - I knew I didn’t want to do that forever. I thought I would try to get my GED or graduate high school, then I could get a job somewhere. I ended up going to school in northern Jersey. I went into the foster care system. Lived in a small house with five other kids… They were shit people, too, but I really only slept there. And I would try to crash with friends when I could. I got food from the food shelf, or I stole from grocery stores and shit- It’s actually really easy to steal from grocery stores. You just have to buy like one or two things, and stuff the rest in your pockets,” he explained, exhaling smoke harshly and staring at the buildings in the distance. Adrian scowled, thinking about his life before college.

“Did your classmates know any of this?”

“They knew I was an orphan, sure. But I didn’t talk about that stuff.” He sighed. Adrian said nothing for a while, and they smoked in silence.

“I’m sorry to hear about your foster parents. I’ve heard that it’s really bad,” he empathized quietly, trying not to make a big deal about it. 

“Ha! They weren’t parents. They did it just for the paycheck. I think they hated having us in their house. I wasn’t welcome there, except to sleep. I didn’t even shower there, I showered in the gym. That’s why I joined hockey, actually. It took up a lot of time, which I liked... The coach knew I didn’t have any money, so he covered me. Or the school did. I kinda poured all my energy into it, and tried to get really good. That’s how I got my scholarship. And Wallachia accepted me because it’s good for publicity, right? It balances out all the rich, pompous, assholes they let in…”

“Like me?” Adrian huffed, smirking. Trevor smiled.

“Yeah, like you,” he joked, “Nah, I’m joking. I don’t actually think you’re an asshole, remember?”

“Oh, right. Thanks again.” He huffed, because that was the nicest thing Trevor had said to him.

“Besides, you're actually really smart. I bet your parents didn’t have to pay to get you in.” Trevor said something complimentary again, which confused Adrian even more. He was starting to wonder if Trevor didn’t actually hate him at all.

“Well, they sent me to an expensive high school, but no, they didn’t bribe admissions or anything. I had good scores.” He explained.

“I bet.” Trevor turned around, then, eager to get a glimpse of Adrian smoking in the sunlight again. He hadn’t been able to get that image out of his head since their first study group session. Light reflected off the man like he was made of gold. And Trevor supposed, in a way, he was. Gold hair, gold eyes, gold eyelashes. It was mesmerizing to look at him. After a while of blatant staring, Adrian looked him in the eyes and made a face, startled at Trevor’s intense gaze on him.

“What?” He asked in his unusual voice. Trevor pursed his lips, looking at the cigarette between the man’s elegant fingers.

“This may seem like an odd question, but why did you start smoking?”

Adrian furrowed his brow. He didn’t answer.

“It’s just - you don’t really seem like the type to hang around people who smoke, or the type to get peer pressured into it.”

Adrian was silent for a while more, looking over the city, smoking without remorse.

“...it’s my little rebellion.”

He walked toward the apartment and put out his cigarette on the Chanel ashtray.

“The biggest I can get away with.”

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Please review!**

* * *

**Cars:**

Dracula’s Sportscar: [ https://blog.dupontregistry.com/sponsored/2017-lamborghini-aventador-sv-for-sale/ ](https://blog.dupontregistry.com/sponsored/2017-lamborghini-aventador-sv-for-sale/)

Dracula’s Car: [ https://www.mbusa.com/en/vehicles/class/maybach-s-class/sedan ](https://www.mbusa.com/en/vehicles/class/maybach-s-class/sedan)

Adrian’s Ferrari:[ https://www.cnet.com/roadshow/pictures/ferrari-f8-tributo-geneva-motor-show/34/ ](https://www.cnet.com/roadshow/pictures/ferrari-f8-tributo-geneva-motor-show/34/)

**Furniture/furniture inspiration list:**

Chanel Ashtray: <https://www.homelesspenthouse.com/collections/home-decor/products/coco-ash-tray?variant=19823175958590>

ASAP Rocky x DIOR Print : [ https://www.homelesspenthouse.com/collections/framed-prints/products/asap-rocky-x-dior-canvas-print?variant=31429243994246 ](https://www.homelesspenthouse.com/collections/framed-prints/products/asap-rocky-x-dior-canvas-print?variant=31429243994246)

Living room:

End table: [ https://www.zgallerie.com/p-18314-sequoia-end-table.aspx ](https://www.zgallerie.com/p-18314-sequoia-end-table.aspx)

Chandelier: [ https://www.zgallerie.com/p-18950-metron-chandelier.aspx ](https://www.zgallerie.com/p-18950-metron-chandelier.aspx)

Console table:[ https://www.zgallerie.com/p-18914-omni-console-table.aspx ](https://www.zgallerie.com/p-18914-omni-console-table.aspx)

Mirror:[ https://www.zgallerie.com/p-19864-sequoia-leaner-mirror.aspx ](https://www.zgallerie.com/p-19864-sequoia-leaner-mirror.aspx)

DZO Art work: [ https://www.behance.net/dzo ](https://www.behance.net/dzo)

Bedroom: 

Chanel light [ https://www.homelesspenthouse.com/products/chanel-neon-light?_pos=5&_sid=4002a5be4&_ss=r ](https://www.homelesspenthouse.com/products/chanel-neon-light?_pos=5&_sid=4002a5be4&_ss=r)

Nightstand [ https://www.luxedecor.com/product/tommy-bahama-kingstown-casual-rectangular-nightstand-to010619622 ](https://www.luxedecor.com/product/tommy-bahama-kingstown-casual-rectangular-nightstand-to010619622)

Ottoman [ https://www.zgallerie.com/p-19870-jules-round-ottoman.aspx ](https://www.zgallerie.com/p-19870-jules-round-ottoman.aspx)

Bed [ https://www.luxedecor.com/product/tommy-bahama-kingstown-casual-poster-bed-to010619174c ](https://www.luxedecor.com/product/tommy-bahama-kingstown-casual-poster-bed-to010619174c)

Chaise Lounge [ https://www.wayfair.com/Astoria-Grand--Oswego-Chaise-Lounge-X111920072-L913-K~W000819961.html?refid=GX425532390917-W000819961&device=c&ptid=888562465416&network=g&targetid=aud-356699937033:pla-888562465416&channel=GooglePLA&ireid=66200251&fdid=1817&campaignid=398251723&gclid=CjwKCAjw4871BRAjEiwAbxXi288UW5JG56P2KWTqeuKht2sPLVdhbhRjy3LAePRyVODe9SOF6TW_9xoCG1gQAvD_BwE](https://www.wayfair.com/Astoria-Grand--Oswego-Chaise-Lounge-X111920072-L913-K~W000819961.html?refid=GX425532390917-W000819961&device=c&ptid=888562465416&network=g&targetid=aud-356699937033:pla-888562465416&channel=GooglePLA&ireid=66200251&fdid=1817&campaignid=398251723&gclid=CjwKCAjw4871BRAjEiwAbxXi288UW5JG56P2KWTqeuKht2sPLVdhbhRjy3LAePRyVODe9SOF6TW_9xoCG1gQAvD_BwE)

Office:

Couch <https://www.perigold.com/furniture/pdp/foundation-studio-velvet-curved-1255-square-arm-sofa-fnxx1038.html?piid=>

Rug [ https://www.zgallerie.com/p-24154-ashton-rug-black.aspx ](https://www.zgallerie.com/p-24154-ashton-rug-black.aspx)

Desk [ https://www.luxedecor.com/product/hekman-office-casual-l-shaped-desk-hk79147 ](https://www.luxedecor.com/product/hekman-office-casual-l-shaped-desk-hk79147)

Coffee Table [ https://www.perigold.com/furniture/pdp/tommy-bahama-home-kingstown-abstract-coffee-table-tbl1526.html ](https://www.perigold.com/furniture/pdp/tommy-bahama-home-kingstown-abstract-coffee-table-tbl1526.html)

Bookcase [ https://www.perigold.com/furniture/pdp/howard-miller-bradburn-oversized-library-bookcase-p000991010.html ](https://www.perigold.com/furniture/pdp/howard-miller-bradburn-oversized-library-bookcase-p000991010.html)


	8. Drinking Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After finishing their project, Trevor convinces Adrian and Sypha to get drunk.

**CHAPTER EIGHT: Drinking Games**

* * *

Adrian’s $9,900 Sequin Jacket: [ https://www.bergdorfgoodman.com/p/saint-laurent-mens-teddy-gradient-sequined-jacket-prod152730670?childItemId=BGN6QW5_&uuid=PDP_PAGINATION_bd6041a3fd4d101c1a35e0bf38c0d832_pIxN6TW64lCWjjSqZZjJBXFYUHXL-aCibynIE93u.jsession&page=0&position=4&navpath=cat000000_cat202802_cat521724 ](https://www.bergdorfgoodman.com/p/saint-laurent-mens-teddy-gradient-sequined-jacket-prod152730670?childItemId=BGN6QW5_&uuid=PDP_PAGINATION_bd6041a3fd4d101c1a35e0bf38c0d832_pIxN6TW64lCWjjSqZZjJBXFYUHXL-aCibynIE93u.jsession&page=0&position=4&navpath=cat000000_cat202802_cat521724)

Adrian’s Rainbow Crystal Jeans: [ https://thewebster.us/shop/rainbow-crystal-skinny-denim-jean-black.html?gclid=Cj0KCQjwzN71BRCOARIsAF8pjfhh7zQaC6T5M10B7WfjTnnWfvIiXMMsK911u_Rd5BoRj58Q3YRvyyIaApgVEALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds ](https://thewebster.us/shop/rainbow-crystal-skinny-denim-jean-black.html?gclid=Cj0KCQjwzN71BRCOARIsAF8pjfhh7zQaC6T5M10B7WfjTnnWfvIiXMMsK911u_Rd5BoRj58Q3YRvyyIaApgVEALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds)

Adrian’s See-Through Shirt: [ https://thewebster.us/shop/men/black-sheer-logo-shirt.html ](https://thewebster.us/shop/men/black-sheer-logo-shirt.html)

* * *

Fendi Jacket: <https://thewebster.us/shop/men/ff-logo-collar-bomber-jacket-black.html>

Wacko Maria Tiger Shirt: [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/wacko-maria-tiger-print-shirt-item-14165306.aspx?storeid=9359 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/wacko-maria-tiger-print-shirt-item-14165306.aspx?storeid=9359)

* * *

After another hour of coding, the trio decided to order lunch. 

“What do you feel like eating?” Adrian asked, looking at them.

“Um… I don’t know. Something cheap, maybe fast food.” Sypha shrugged nonchalantly. Trevor got an idea, sitting forward dramatically in his chair.

“Oh my god, let’s take your fucking Rolls-Royce through a McDonald’s takeout drive-through - and have your driver order for us!” Trevor and Sypha laughed at the idea, but Adrian only glared, annoyed.

“No, we’re not doing that,” he rejected the plan instantly, “Lunch is on me, guys. What do you want? Italian? Thai?”

“You don’t have to do that, Adrian…” Sypha mildly protested. 

“It’s no problem at all.” He shook his head, grabbing his Louis Vuitton wallet from the counter. He sat back down at the dining room table.

“Takeout isn't going to take too big of a chunk out of his trust fund.” Trevor snarked.

“Yeah, I don’t get that for a while. This is a credit card under my father’s account,” he held the card up between his slim fingers. Trevor’s expression shifted, a smile rising deviously.

“Perfect. Then I’ll take two lobsters, a steak, a bottle of champagne, and a side of caviar. Thanks.” He sat back in his chair, smirking smugly. Sypha chuckled, but Adrian wasn’t in the mood for his antics.

“...Is that what you really want, Trevor? Do you even like caviar?” Adrian asked, rolling his eyes. He bet Trevor would hate caviar.

“No, seriously, McDonald's is fine,” Trevor responded, sighing. Adrian huffed.

“I’m not going to eat processed food right now. Something fresh. You know what, you’re kind of impossible, so Sypha and I will just order food for you, okay?” Trevor made a shocked face as if Adrian was the one being annoying.

“I’m not impossible! You’re just hangry.” He resisted, pouting with his perfect lips. Adrian ignored him.

“Sypha, what should we order?” He smiled at her, tilting his head, blonde hair falling over his shoulder. She thought for a moment.

“Thai sounds good!”

“Okay, great. There’s a good place nearby. Let me find the number. What do you want?” He asked Sypha, and she shrugged.

“I don’t think I’ve ever tried Thai food actually, so surprise me.” 

“She likes vegetables and sweet drinks. I don’t like sweet drinks.” Trevor noted. Adrian nodded, calling a number on his phone.

“Hi! Can I place a delivery order, please? Yes, can I order one grilled chicken satay, eight vegetable dumplings, one green papaya salad, wok roasted chili with chicken, curry fried rice, and one Pad Thai? Two mango sticky rice desserts, and… two Thai teas. Thank you. Please tell the delivery person that they can come right up to the top floor… Adrian Tepes, 143 Windsor Lane, Apartment 100.”

“Yum!” Sypha bounced in her chair, excited at the idea of restaurant food. She had been eating repetitive caf meals with Trevor for too long. Adrian noticed her smiling.

“I thought you’ve never had it before. Why are you so happy?” He wondered aloud.

“I’m just so excited to have restaurant food. The only restaurant I’ve eaten at recently is McDonald's with Trevor. So, this sounds great. Plus, I’m starving. Thanks so much!” She beamed, wiggling in her chair a little. _She’s so fucking cute._

“What’s a Thai tea?” She asked.

“It’s an iced black tea with spices, sugar, and condensed milk. It’s kind of a dessert drink. You’ll probably like it,” Adrian explained.

“Sounds good. But, let’s try to get this turned in before lunch comes if we can,” Trevor pushed. Adrian raised an eyebrow.

“Why? are you on some sort of time crunch?” He asked.

“No, I’m just - I’m... excited for the drinking,” he admitted, eyebrows raised. Adrian burst out laughing, startled by the man’s honesty and love of alcohol.

“Oh, God. You’re funny. Or, sad, actually. Maybe I shouldn’t laugh at that.” Adrian wondered. Trevor scowled.

“Hey, I’m better than I was when Sypha met me. She’s helped me to get down to a reasonable amount.” _She helped a lot._

“I would still say you could drink less, Trevor. But, yes, he’s better than when I met him freshman year. He was practically made of beer back then.”

They worked pretty hard, trying to wrap up the project before lunch. Although they accomplished a lot, there was still work to be done. In not too long, the doorbell rang. Adrian took the food and handed the delivery man a twenty for a tip. Sypha and Trevor helped Adrian set out lunch, grabbing plates and silverware. The pleasant, fresh scents flooded the apartment.

“Mmm,” Sypha hummed, grinning at the fresh flavor. Trevor bit into a grilled chicken skewer dipped in spicy chili sauce.

“This is awesome… Thanks.” He muttered between bites. Adrian made a face.

“You’re welcome.” His voice was clipped, face held in discontent. Trevor scowled, taking another messy bite, saucy on the side of his mouth and chin. Adrian sighed, staring at him.

“Has anyone ever taught you basic table manners?” He asked sarcastically, watching the way his friend ate. Trevor looked at him.

“Um, no, why? Are my eating skills not up to your billionaire standards, princeling?”

“No. They’re not. Please stop.” Adrian was blunt, eyes fixed on the messy man.

“Stop what?”

“Stop chewing with your mouth open, stop talking while there is still food in your mouth, stop putting both your elbows on the table, stop making such loud noises while you eat,” he listed off, aggravated by Trevor's unkempt appearance and manners. Trevor grunted, putting down the chicken skewer. _Priss. Who cares?_

“He’s right. And - you have sauce on your face.” Sypha spoke up, gesturing. Trevor wiped his mouth and hands, taking his arms off the table.

“There. Happy?” He grunted. They nodded, going back to their meals. Everything was delicious, and they had all worked up an appetite concentrating for so long.

“So, how much do we have left?” Sypha asked, meaning the project.

“Just a couple of things, and then we’re done,” Adrian answered, picking up a veggie dumpling with a chopstick.

“Great!” She smiled, eating some Pad Thai. Trevor looked over his friends for a moment, thinking. Things were probably better then than they had ever been. He was glad to see them eating happily, enjoying each other’s company. The jealousy he had felt early on was fading in time, especially because he assumed that Adrian was gay after seeing him on Tinder. Trevor never brought it up, never asked. It was better that way, he thought. 

“Adrian, I have an unusual question: what’s your ethnicity?” Sypha asked. Adrian met her gaze.

“I’m half British and half Romanian.”

“So… you’re half a snob and half… vampire?” Trevor wondered, raising a brow. Sypha giggled, trying not to. Adrian looked stressed and fed up, whipping around to challenge Trevor with his golden glare.

“I know I’m pale. But not everyone from Romania is a fucking vampire.”

“Are you insinuating that some of you are?” Trevor mocked, making a face.

“Romanians are just normal people, Trevor, don’t be rude.” He stabbed a dumpling in annoyance.

“Are you such a prick because you’re British, then? Or is that just your personality?” Trevor asked, continuing to prod him. Adrian smiled, sickly-sweet.

“No, just because you are infuriating sometimes. Can you ever actually refrain from being an asshole?” He quipped, upset. Sypha sighed at Trevor and he dropped his chopsticks and put his hands up.

“Okay, okay. Calm down. I'm sorry. No more teasing, alright? I’ll be good.” He insisted.

“Thank you. Let’s change the subject…” He trailed off, sipping tea. Sypha spoke up, picking out a veggie dumpling.

“Adrian I have a question. With all your genius and everything, why Wallachia University? Was our school your top choice, or were you considering other schools too?” She wondered, taking a sip of Thai tea. Wallachia University was an Ivy, but some others had higher rankings. Adrian pushed a dumpling around on his plate for a while.

“...I didn’t really have many choices. Either Columbia, Harvard, MIT, or Wallachia University. Columbia and Harvard are my mom’s alma maters, MIT is my father’s. And he did postdoctoral work here at Wallachia, so that was an option for me too. They were the only schools I applied to.” He seemed reluctant to linger on the subject.

“So why not go to Columbia or MIT?” Trevor asked.

“Well, Columbia is right in the area where I grew up, so I wasn’t crazy about that. Many of my classmates from Avenues went to Columbia, and I didn’t want to join them. And MIT is known for its student’s tendency to commit suicide, so I didn’t really want to go there either. I toured Wallachia, and I liked the campus, I liked the professors, so- it worked. And it’s nice to be a little far from the city. Get some air. Have some privacy from my parents, you know?” The question seemed casual but the meanings went deeper, and Sypha could tell from knowing him.

“You don’t like them?” Sypha asked, very quietly. Adrian’s eyes widened, and he shook his head once, shocked.

“No, I- I like them. What are you talking about?” He seemed startled by the question. Sypha tensed.

“I’m sorry! I just, I don’t know- I thought…” she drifted, looking down at the food instead of him. Adrian scowled.

“Thought what?” 

“That you maybe didn’t like them that much. I mean, when you say things like you just did, about getting privacy-”

“Your grandfather’s in California? Didn’t you want privacy from him? Isn’t that why you came this far, for some freedom?” Adrian asked defensively. Sypha scowled.

“I had to go to Wallachia because they offered the best scholarships, and otherwise I couldn’t afford it. I didn’t really have a choice. I had to save money. I’m poor... I didn’t want to be away from my grandpa.”

“I’m sorry, Sypha. That was… rude of me to assume, and to talk to you like that,” Adrian apologized, guilty for raising his voice to her.

“It’s okay,” she knew that he had issues and what she had said was a prickly subject. 

“Well, I - I like my parents. They’re great. They’re just-” he sighed, “they’re a little much sometimes. I guess I wanted more freedom. This was the farthest away they wanted me to go.”

“I get it! I do. I mean, I’m so grateful that I can choose my own majors, and my activities, and - whether I can get tattoos or not. My career. It would really suck, not being able to choose those things,” Sypha empathized, thinking about it. Adrian was silent, looking at the table solemnly. Trevor sighed. 

“Yeah, it would,” he muttered, not making fun of Adrian for once. The polished blonde snapped to look at Trevor, confused, and taken aback. He sighed. Trevor locked eyes with him, meeting the intense golden glare.

“What?”

“You always make fun of me, Trevor. Why the sudden change?” Adrian asked seriously.

“...I - I’m getting to know you better. I guess. I don’t know - do you still hate me?” He asked, and Adrian laughed.

“You think I hate you?” He asked, open-mouthed and shocked.

“Uh - yeah. I mean, I thought you did, maybe.” _Didn't he?_

“No. I was unsure about you at first. That was not me hating you. You would not like to see me hating you… And now- now I like you. Generally speaking. Improprieties excluded,” He admitted, biting into a piece of chicken. Trevor made a face, leaning in towards him. 

“You like me? Alright, then. Say two nice things about me. Genuinely nice things about me.” The challenge wasn’t a hard one for Adrian. He answered quickly.

“Okay, I think it’s amazing that you got into our college- you’re clearly smart and dedicated when you want to be. It’s very impressive. And… I think - I think that you’re the hottest guy I’ve met at our school, definitely.” Trevor’s eyes went wide, his face frozen in shock at the admission. He blinked, looking down at his noodles. _Same._

“Um, thank you… Wow,” he blinked, trying not to blush, “didn’t expect that.”

“Trevor is beautiful, isn’t he?” Sypha sighed happily, looking at Trevor’s stubbly but exceptionally handsome face, making him flush. _What the-?! Where is this coming from? Both of them? Sypha thinks I’m - beautiful?_ He wanted to say something, but Adrian cut in before he could.

“If only we could fix his potty mouth. And his temper. And his drinking problem.” She added humorously, making Adrian chuckle deeply. They both laughed, watching Trevor in his blush. A couple of hours after lunch, they were done with the project.

“There. We’re done!” Sypha smiled, clicking submit on the online portal. 

“Finally.” Adrian sighed in relief. Trevor stood up quickly.

“Let’s celebrate with a drink!” He almost yelled, smiling widely, already making his way to the wine fridge. Adrian chuckled.

“Alright, alright. We can have a drink, I suppose. Do you want to make Mojitos?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had one. What’s in it?” Trevor asked. Adrian opened the fridge.

“Sparkling soda, rum-”

“Yeah! Sure,” Trevor cut in. Adrian started to chuckle again. 

“Trevor!” Sypha chided. Adrian shook them off.

“As I was saying: sparkling soda, white rum, fresh mint leaves, sugar, and lime.” Trevor nodded, ready to get going.

“Sounds amazing. Where’s your rum? You don’t have any rum.” He scowled.

“It’s down here,” Adrian explained, reaching into a low cabinet and producing a bottle of Bacardi. Trevor whistled, grabbing the large bottle.

“Yes! That’s what I’m talking about. Hell yeah! Okay, how do we make these?”

“This is the only thing I’ve ever seen you be excited about other than eating.” Adrian commented, looking at his energetic body language. He was practically bouncing with joy. Adrian grabbed three tall glasses from an upper cabinet.

“We need the muddler…” he muttered, looking through the drawers, “here.”

“What do we use that for?”

“Just watch. You take the place the mint leaves and the lime wedges at the bottom of the glass and mix the juices,” he demonstrated, as Trevor and Sypha watched.

“Then you add a lime and some sugar,” he explained, adding some spoonfuls. 

“Add ice.” Sypha helped him fill the glasses.

“Pour some Bacardi, and then sparkling water,” he finished, handing one to Sypha and then to Trevor. They all stood together in the kitchen, comfortably near one another. She took a sip and Trevor did as well.

“Nice!” She nodded, liking the flavor.

“Oh, fuck yeah. It could use a little more rum, though. But it’s still good.” Trevor took another too-big sip and smiled.

“Alright, enough of this studying bullshit,” Trevor complained, turning off the classical mix Adrian had on the CTC music console by the window, “Let’s get some fucking party music going!” He urged, an excited mood taking him over. Adrian followed him over.

“This is for record players and CDs,” Adrian explained, gesturing to the glossy media player, “but I have surround sound on the TV if you want to put on some music videos.”

“CDs? What the fuck? Who still uses CDs?” Trevor laughed.

“I do! I like them. I like feeling the record or the CD in my hands and looking at the art on the front cover.” Trevor laughed at him.

“You’re still weird, Adrian,” he joked, taking another sip. Adrian pushed his shoulder.

“Shut up. What do you want to listen to?” Adrian asked, going to the large TV and picking up the remote. He opened Youtube and listened for Trevor’s request.

“Travis Scott… No, no, I’m feeling - Cardi B, Cardi B! Bodak Yellow.”

“Why?” Adrian laughed at his insistence as he typed it in the search bar.

“Because, the lyrics remind me of you! Just listen-” he pressed play and the rap song filled the apartment loudly.

_Said little bitch, you can't fuck with me_

_If you wanted to_

_These expensive, these is red bottoms_

_These is bloody shoes_

_Hit the store, I can get 'em both_

_I don't wanna choose_

_And I'm quick, cut a n***a off_

_So don't get comfortable_

_Look, I don't dance now_

_I make money moves_

“Hey! I am not that pretentious!” Adrian rebuked, offended, mouth open. Trevor laughed.

“Trevor!” Sypha groaned, “Don’t be an asshole tonight.” Trevor kept laughing as the song played. He took another long sip from his drink.

“Okay, wait, no. There’s another song that reminds me of you more. Another singer,” Trevor began, grabbing the remote. There was a devious smile on his face that meant he was definitely up to something. Adrian watched him input a song. 

“Jeffree Star? Are you fucking serious?” Adrian whipped around, still shocked at him.

“Yes! Oh, come on! You don’t see it? You’re both filthy rich, fashion-obsessed, tall, skinny, androgynous white men. Maybe if you took the stick out of your ass, you’d be as fun as Jeffree is.” Trevor put on an old Jeffree song, Lollipop Luxury.

“Why do you like him?” Sypha wondered, finding it funny that Trevor did. 

“He’s fucking hilarious! Have you seen his videos? He’s a savage.” Trevor laughed, finishing his drink already and setting it on the coffee table. He had downed the entire glass in a minute. Adrian frowned at the empty drink, as he himself was on his second sip.

“I don’t watch his videos or music really,” Adrian scowled, listening to the video for the first time. He took a drink while Trevor turned up the volume of the electronic pop.

_I'll make you hot, make you rock_

_I'll leave the world in shock_

_I'm a tease, I'm your fuel_

_I just wanna see you drool on your knees, pretty please_

_You wish you were my main squeeze_

_Ah, li-li-like luxury_

_Fuck me, I'm a celebrity_

_Can't take your eyes off me_

_I'll make you fuck me just to get somewhere_

“Woah! Woah! Trevor, Are you fucking kidding me?! I do not act like that!” Adrian gasped, offended, and then he started laughing along with Sypha at the strange association Trevor had made in his mind. Trevor was turning red from laughter. The song continued.

“He’s kidding,” Sypha wheezed, taking a drink.

_Fuck me, I'm a celebrity_

_Can't take your hands off me_

_I know you wanna suck me, whatcha waiting for?_

_Lip gloss and lollipop_

_Let's rock, I wanna pop_

_Can't take your eyes off me_

_I'm all that you can see_

“How am I like that? Seriously? What the fuck?” Adrian was shocked, eyes wide.

“Like I said, if you took the _stick_ out of your ass, I think that’s what you’d be like. A little bit. Maybe not that wild, but still. You’re witty and sarcastic, You could be fun.” Trevor went into the kitchen, taking his empty glass with him. Adrian followed, scowling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he huffed. Trevor turned around dramatically, hands extended.

“That’s because you never relax! You’re always so fucking serious,” he gesticulated.

“No, I’m not.” Adrian crossed his arms.

“Really? Prove it. I want to see you let loose. Once. Just once... Every time I see you, you look like you have a colonoscopy tomorrow or you’re going to court the next day! I want to see you relax, get drunk, have some fucking fun like a normal nineteen-year-old.” Trevor insisted, pouring a questionable amount of Bacardi into his glass filled with ice cubes. Sypha sighed, but she said nothing, coming to sit beside Adrian and Trevor at the island.

“Well, I can’t tonight,” Adrian refused, watching as Trevor took his own glass and poured in too much rum into it. The song switched automatically to Cake By The Ocean on the TV. 

“Why not?!” 

“I - I have to do something for CTC. That was what my dad called me earlier for. He wants me to work on something.” Adrian sat down at a barstool, stress written on his perfect face. Trevor groaned.

“Fuck Dracula. Don’t do it! Call him up and tell him you want to hang out with friends, you know, like a normal teenage college student does on the weekend?” Trevor pushed, handing Adrian his phone. _Don’t let him ruin your social life._ Adrian turned his head, looking away.

“I don’t want to do that. I already said yes. He might get mad if I go back on my word.” Trevor sighed at that. _I feel bad for this guy, living under Dracula’s boot. Fuck that._

“I’m sorry, Adrian,” Sypha chimed in, touching his shoulder. Trevor tilted his head, thinking. He seriously wanted to see Adrian relax for once.

“Okay, what do you have to do? Coding?” Trevor asked.

“Yes.”

“Why can’t your IT guys do that? Jesus. Call up one of CTC’s best IT guys, tell him you need it done. Pay him if you need to. You probably won’t, and he’ll probably just listen to you because you're the boss's son. Tell your dad you had too much homework if he asks.” Trevor suggested, leaning forward on the counter. The sunset made him look even more handsome than usual, and Adrian sighed, pursing his lips. He looked at Trevor for a while, noticing the way his icy blue eyes and soft looked in the light.

“Okay, I guess I could do that. I do know this guy I could call…” he mumbled.

“Yes! Perfect. Then we can party, and you can relax for once. Come on, this is college! When are you going to relax, when you’re a neurosurgeon? _Take a fucking break. For one night._ ”

Adrian sighed.

“Ah, alright, I guess a break would be good. I have been studying a lot,” Adrian admitted, calling someone who could take care of the problem for him and going into his office. After a few minutes, he came back.

“Did it work?” Sypha asked.

“...Yeah.”

“Yes! Finally! Okay, come over here, Adrian. We’re gonna get you good and drunk. And then, do you know what we’re going to do? Something you’ve probably never done.” He wrapped his arm around Adrian’s broad shoulders, talking to him like a frat initiate. Adrian raised a brow, trying not to laugh or speculate out loud.

“We’re gonna have fun. F. U. N. Prepare yourself,” he warned, and Adrian laughed.

“Okay! Tonight, I am your Party Master, I will be the captain of this ship. There will be various games and lots of laughter. Alright? I may be a broke mess, but I know how to do one thing really well: party... Actually - I’m good at three things. Hockey, sex, and partying, but tonight - we’re going to focus on the partying, okay?” Sypha started laughing, shrugging off her cardigan, leaving only a tight white tee shirt and leggings underneath. Adrian was wondering what he had signed onto.

“Are you ready?” Trevor asked with great showmanship, smiling handsomely and looking Adrian in the eyes. He raised his dark brows expectantly.

“Uh- Sure.” Adrian muttered. Trevor’s expression fell.

“That’s - wow, that was dreadful. You have to convince me that you mean it,” Trevor responded, shaking his head like it was the worst thing he had ever heard at an audition. Adrian made a face, breaking into laughter along with Sypha. Trevor 

“Come on! Are you ready to motherfucking party, Adrian Tepes?!” Adrian only chuckled for a minute at what was a very strange situation for him. A silence passed.

“Fuck yeah!” Adrian shouted suddenly, and Trevor bent his head back in laughter.

“Yes! That’s what I’m talking about! Let’s get this going. Sypha, can you put on The Weekend, please? High volume?” Trevor asked, and she nodded, smiling.

“This is going to be interesting…” she muttered, turning on music videos by The Weekend.

“Alright, do you have any shot glasses? We need them for drinking games.” Trevor looked around, turning. 

“Ah, no. I don’t really do shots.” He furrowed his brows.

“Well, that’s going to change tonight... I won’t push you too far. But you’re going to relax for once. You promised.” Adrian groaned lightly.

“We can use these,” Trevor said, pulling out small glasses.

“Sypha, do you have your pen?” He asked, looking up as he arranged the glasses in a row. She walked back to the island, putting her hands on the counter and leaning forward.

“Yeah… Should I get it out?” She asked.

“Yeah, and turn off the lights. Just keep these lights on,” Trevor flipped on the lights under the kitchen cabinets. The room was dark then, only low lighting coming from the hallway, the kitchen cabinets, and the TV. 

“Pen?” Adrian asked, scowling in confusion. Trevor chuckled, a deep sound in his throat. He looked over to Sypha, who was digging her weed pen out of her backpack.

“Sypha, he doesn’t even know what a pen is,” he wheezed in disbelief.

“What is that?” Adrian huffed, annoyed at not knowing. Trevor chuckled.

“It’s a cannabis oil - hash oil - vaporizer pen. So you can get high?” He explained dryly. Adrian scowled. Often by the Weekend blared in the background.

_She asked me if I do this every day, I said, "Often"_

_Asked how many times she rode the wave, "Not so often"_

_Bitches down to do it either way, often_

_Baby I can make that pussy rain, often_

_Often, often, girl I do this often_

_Make that pussy poppin', do it how I want it_

_Often, often, girl I do this often_

_Make that pussy poppin', do it how I want it_

_Often_

“Ah, I don’t know. I’m really not supposed to smoke weed,” he protested mildly. Trevor rolled his eyes at him. 

“Do you think your Daddy is going to come up to Rochester on a _Monday morning_ , when he should be at work, to randomly drug test you?” Trevor asked dramatically, leaning towards Adrian. 

“Please stop referring to him as my ‘daddy’.” Adrian grimaced. Sypha butted in.

“He doesn’t need to smoke, Trevor. Don’t make him if he doesn’t want-”

“You know what? Okay, I’ll try it… A little.” Adrian cut her off, exhaling. Trevor grabbed his shoulder.

“Hey! There we go. Relaxation. Sypha is an _expert_ in relaxation,” Trevor added comically, gesturing to Sypha and the vape pen. She scowled.

“You’re making me sound like a pothead.” She complained.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Trevor smirked, taking the pen. He turned towards Adrian.

“Here, look. Watch me do it. You turn it on, set it, and you press the little button here,” he pointed, “and then you inhale into your mouth slowly, hold for a little bit, and exhale.” Sypha giggled at the demonstration. Trevor exhaled, letting out a cloud of smoke. Adrian licked his lips.

“Here, it’s your turn.” He passed over the pen. Adrian wiped it off before he copied him, pretty much successfully. He coughed a little on the exhale.

“Good. Good, you’re letting loose, there you go,” Trevor complimented, like it was his mission in life to make him inebriated. Adrian laughed, handing the pen to Sypha. Trevor went into the wine cooler and held up a bottle of Limoncello.

“I’ve never tried this! Are you saving it, or can we try it out?” He asked. Adrian shook his head.

“No, I’m not saving it. We can drink it,” he sighed, watching as Trevor poured three small glasses and added ice. He handed one to both Sypha and Adrian.

“Alright, now let’s get comfy. Take off the shoes, relax the body,” he soothed, like he was a yoga instructor. Sypha laughed.

“Oh my god, Trevor,” she sighed, laughing and taking off her shoes. Adrian did too, a bit more reluctantly. Trevor started to dance around the room slowly to ‘I Can’t Feel My Face’. He moved his body with the beat, getting into the feel of the music. Adrian smiled watching the man dance around his living room.

“ _Ah, yes!_ I can’t feel my face! Relaxation,” he cried out, moving his limbs lithely, letting go of any stress in his body. Adrian started to laugh, because his friend was definitely an entertainer. Trevor pulled Adrian towards the empty space between the living room and the kitchen. Sypha started to move to the beat comfortably, smoking from her pen. Adrian was the only one who felt odd dancing with only two other people. He was out of his comfort zone.

“Come on! Feel the energy, the beat, let go of your stresses,” he advised comically, starting to dance. 

“Yeah! I can’t feel my face when I’m with you. But I love it,” Trevor started moving to the beat, solo dancing into the living room and somehow managing to still look good, albeit tipsy.

“Who is this guy?” Adrian wheezed, turning towards Sypha. She giggled.

“This is just stage one. You’ve never seen Trevor party. I mean, seriously party. He’s hilarious,” she explained, passing the pen to Adrian in the quasi-darkness. Trevor beckoned them to sit down on the big velvet couch.

“Come over, I can tell Adrian’s not ready to dance. Too much of a relaxation novice to start off with dancing. ..We’ll get you good and relaxed first. Let’s play some drinking games, listen to music,” he patted the seat next to him, “Come on, sit.” Adrian did, smoking again from the pen, inhaling deeply.

“That’s a good start. Probably enough for now. That pen is kinda strong, and we’ve been drinking, so why don’t you lay off that.” Trevor instructed, taking it from him.

“Let’s play truth or dare! Or charades,” Sypha suggested, sitting down next to Trevor and tucking her legs beneath her comfortably on the couch. Adrian tried to relax, settling on the loveseat next to her, crossing one leg over the other. 

“Okay, sure. But I play to win, alright? Let’s do truth or dare,” Trevor nodded, taking a shot of Italian liquor. 

“If you don’t answer the question or do the dare, you take a shot?” Adrian asked, making sure he knew the rules. Trevor brought over the bottle of Bacardi.

“Right. Answer quickly. You first, Adrian, because you’re the youngest. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he answered.

“What is your wildest sex fantasy?” Trevor asked, settling down on the couch.

“Uh, I don’t really know,” he chuckled, “Maybe, sex on the beach?” Adrian shrugged.

“In public? Are you an exhibitionist?” Trevor wondered, eyes wide.

“Only one question per turn, Trevor,” Sypha reminded him, and he shut up.

“Okay, Sypha, truth or dare?” Adrian asked.

“Truth,” Sypha said.

“What’s the craziest thing you think you’ve ever done?” Adrian asked.

“I went to an orgy once,” she answered quickly, smirking. Adrian almost choked on his drink. He gasped.

“What?! Really?” He was taken aback. She chuckled along with Trevor, smoking from her pen.

“Yeah. Don’t let this sweet exterior fool you. I’m wild sometimes,” she laughed, leaving Adrian to wonder, mouth agape. He raised his eyebrows and tried to get the idea out of his head, a bit unsuccessfully. 

“Okay, Trevor, do a truth first, because you always do dares,” she pushed.

“Truth,” Trevor smirked. Sypha thought for a second. She tried to think of something she’d never asked him.

“Have you ever slept with a mom? With somebody’s mom?” She laughed. Trevor made a face.

“Hell, I don’t know. Probably. I mean I don’t really ask women ‘Are you a mom?’ before we start. So, who knows? Maybe. Not that I know of, though… Alright, Adrian, your turn.”

“Dare, I guess.” He looked at Trevor, who was leaning forward, elbows on his knees.

“I dare you… I dare you to text an ex, and start something. It’ll be a prank. I’ll tell you what to say.” He smirked, a plan forming. Adrian shook his head.

“Can’t do that, I don’t have any.” He took a drink, assuming he failed the dare.

“You’ve never dated?” Sypha scowled. He was so handsome, she couldn't understand why not.

“Not long enough to have any exes,” he explained, not meeting their eyes.

“Okay, something else then… I dare you to do a solo dance and karaoke for us. To a song of your choice.” Trevor urged him, trying to get him to let go.

“Uhh…” He shook his head. That was far from Adrian’s comfort zone.

“Come on! We’re not going to judge, just dance, let loose,” Sypha encouraged him. Adrian blushed. 

“No, no. I’ll just take the drink and skip,” he declined, taking another drink. Trevor sighed.

“Sypha, truth or dare?” He asked.

“Dare.”

“Call a tattoo shop and ask if they would give you a wild tattoo, and ask how much it would cost and everything. And say you want it somewhere… very unique,” he chuckled, tucking his long legs up on the couch. Sypha and Trevor laughed.

“That’s a good one! Okay, I will,” she smiled, dialing a tattoo parlor in town.

“Hi! I was just wondering. I wanted to get a tattoo, and I’m wondering if you guys could do it for me, and how much it will cost… Yeah, I want a tattoo of my boyfriend’s name, in cursive, with like hearts all around it, and everything like that,” she put a hand over her face, trying not to laugh, “Where do I want it? You know. I want it… down there. Down under, you know? So only my boyfriend would see it.” Sypha shushed the boys who were almost dying of laughter, waving her arms at them to stop while she tried not to laugh herself.

“Oh, and could I get, like, an arrow, pointing down... right to my hoo-ha? You know, so it’s just really, really clear who owns my snatch,” she held the phone away, chuckling, “... yeah, that is dedication. How much would it cost? Can you look that up? And, do you know, like, could I do stuff afterward? This is my first tattoo, so I don't know. Do I have to wait a while before I get back to my sex life, and if so, how long? Because my boyfriend would be mad if it was more than a week, you know?” She burst out laughing, hanging up the phone. The three of them cackled for a full minute until their stomachs hurt.

“Your hoo-ha?” Trevor wheezed, “You’re something else, Belnades. I bet the guys enjoyed that. That was good for a laugh.

“Adrian?” He was recovering from laughing so much, trying to regain his breath.

“Dare,” he chose.

“I dare you to… catwalk around the apartment,” she giggled, sipping Bacardi.

“Ah-Okay. I will,” he got up, walking normally to the end of the hallway, and catwalking back to the living room. Sypha whistled.

“Whooo! Nice,” she complimented. Trevor’s eyes fixed on Adrian’s beautiful long and elegant legs. He looked very graceful.

“Trevor, truth or dare?” He asked, sitting back down

“Dare.”

“I dare you to let us look at your search history on your phone,” Adrian suggested, smirking deviously. Sypha giggled, raising her eyebrows and pushing Trevor’s arm.

“Do it!” She urged

“Ah, can’t. I use incognito mode, so I don’t have a search history.” He took a shot of Bacardi, shaking his head afterward at the strong flavor. The ‘Wicked Games’ music video blared from the TV.

_Bring your love, baby, I could bring my shame_

_Bring the drugs, baby, I could bring my pain_

_I got my heart right here_

_I got my scars right here_

_Bring the cups, baby, I could bring the drank_

_Bring your body, baby, I could bring you fame_

_And that's my motherfucking words too_

_Just let me motherfucking love you_

“Damn it, that would have been so much fun. There’s a reason he uses private mode,” she teased, winking. Adrian sat forward, becoming a bit bolder with the game.

“I’ll try again. Trevor, I dare you to go downstairs, knock on someone’s door, and ask them if they have a spare condom.” Sypha screamed in excitement. Trevor leaned back, shocked.

“Adrian, coming alive! That’s a good one.” He nodded.

“Are you gonna do it?” The blonde asked.

“Hell yeah! Let’s do it. Are you going to watch?” He gestured to the two of them.

“Yeah! We’ll be at the end of the hall. Don’t look at us, okay?” Adrian smiled, “I don’t want my neighbors to associate you with me.”

“Let’s go.”

They went down a couple of floors and Sypha and Adrian watched from far down the hall as Trevor knocked and asked for a condom politely. The man at the door tried not to laugh as he denied him.

“Sorry, I don’t have any right now. You can, uh, you can try the convenience store around the block?” The stranger suggested awkwardly.

“Alright cool, thanks anyway. Have a good night, man,” Trevor smiled, walking away. Sypha and Adrian hid behind the wall, making sure no one saw them, both trying to resist laughing, hands over their mouths. They went back up the stairs wheezing.

“Trevor! Maybe that guy never gets any action, and you just made him feel so bad about not having condoms!” She punched Trevor lightly on the arm.

“I think he just wanted to get rid of you, you’re obviously drunk,” Adrian added. When they were back in the living room the game continued. After a while, Adrian was starting to feel quite dizzy and drunk, but nothing horrible. He just wasn't used to getting drunk. Trevor and Sypha were getting there, too, but Adrian was a newbie, so he was farther along.

“Truth or dare, Adrian?” 

“Truth,” Adrian decided.

“Okay, you can skip if you want to, but - what’s your sexuality?” Sypha asked, legs propped on Trevor’s lap. Adrian cleared his throat.

“I’m bisexual. I came out last year.”

_Oh... That makes sense. God, I'm dumb. Do I think I'm the only bisexual man in the universe or something?_

“Cool! that’s awesome," Sypha responded, smiling. Adrian raised a blond eyebrow.

“It’s awesome?” He laughed.

“Yeah. I bet it's lots of fun to date around, have your pick of all the hotties. Get plenty of action.”

Adrian made a noncommittal noise, looking at the teal rug beneath his feet. The game continued on for a while as they found more and more things to ask each other. 

"Okay, Adrian."

“Dare.”

“I dare you to let me sit in the driver seat of your Ferrari," Trevor hoped, smiling. Adrian grunted.

“No way. We've been drinking. Pass. Also, that's probably never going to happen, Trevor. Don't count on it. I’ll take the drink,” he opted, sipping a bit of his mojito.

“Okay... Sypha, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” she chose, tilting her head. A pause.

“Have you two ever slept together? Or dated?” Adrian asked, gesturing between them. The alcohol in his system making him feel bold enough to ask questions that he would usually be too nervous to ask.

“No, neither,” she answered, sinking into the couch. Trevor looked away.

“I’m going to go back to you, Adrian, truth or dare?” She returned. 

“Um, truth.”

“You’re bi, so here’s my question... which one of us would you rather make out with?” She challenged, smirking. Trevor huffed loudly.

“Ahh,” Adrian let out nervous laughter, “You? I’m afraid Trevor would steal my wallet or bite me or something,” he joked, looking at his Mojito, laughing a little along with Sypha.

“Oh, he doesn’t bite! Trevor’s all talk, really,” she insisted.

“Sypha, truth, or dare?” Adrian went back to her and Trevor grunted,

“Hey! Don’t cut me out! I get to go next.”

“Okay. I choose dare.”

“I dare you to… call one of your friends that has a girlfriend, pretend to be said girlfriend, and break up with them. Use a restricted number or something,” he shrugged. Sypha scowled.

“No, that’s mean. I’ll pass,” she said, taking a shot of Bacardi.

“Shit!” She shook her head and puckered her lips, grabbing a lemon wedge and sucking on it to get the flavor out of her mouth.

“Trevor, truth, or dare?” She asked, looking over her shoulder. Trevor put his drink down, sitting up.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to make out with Adrian - for ten seconds at least,” she smiled and then giggled with evil laughter. Trevor’s eyes blew wide.

“What?! Seriously?” He protested. Adrian blushed, shifting in his seat.

“You say you play to win? Go for it. It’s just a kiss, come on, do it,” she urged, pushing him over to Adrian.

"I promise he doesn't bite."

“Fine,” he gulped, moving over to Adrian and sitting beside him on the loveseat, “I do play to win.” Trevor leaned in, threading his hand through Adrian’s long blonde hair, pulling him close. Adrian didn’t protest, letting Trevor lean in and kiss him. Trevor’s soft lips pressed against his own, and because the alcohol dulled his insecurities and nerves, Adrian leaned into it, hand on Trevor’s chiseled jaw, letting the other man kiss him deeply. Sypha whistled, and then giggled, bouncing on the couch in excitement at seeing her little plan come to fruition. Adrian actually pulled Trevor in deeper, opening his lips and letting Trevor’s tongue traverse his mouth. Trevor could swear Adrian moaned when their tongues slid against one another. Trevor loved the feeling of kissing Adrian, he was high on it. 

The man was silky and warm and beautiful against his body and so fucking delicious. He loved the taste of Bacardi and lime in his mouth, and the way he smelled like fancy french cologne. Trevor was drunk enough not to care about his pretend hatred of the man, and let himself act out his fantasies instead, gripping him by the waist to pull him in and kiss him passionately. They made out for much more than the mandatory ten seconds, Trevor only stopping when he realized just how much blood was flowing down where it shouldn’t be. He pulled back, looking at Adrian, who was fully flushed, pink lips parted, hair disheveled, staring at Trevor with a mix of awe, shock, and excitement. He looked delicious and destroyed, and Trevor wanted nothing more than to lean back in and keep kissing him forever, but he reminded himself that this was just a liquor-fueled game between classmates, nothing more. Adrian closed his mouth and looked away.

“Wow! Wow… that was so hot,” Sypha almost groaned, in awe. Watching them passionately make out was turning her on. Trevor huffed, going back to his seat.

“You guys look good together,” she continued, and Adrian licked his lips and crossed his legs, flushed. _I wonder if he was as turned on by that as I was. Jesus, that was hot._ Trevor took a sip of his cold drink, willing his body to calm down. 

“Sypha, truth, or dare?”

“Mmm… dare,” she giggled, looking between Adrian and Trevor.

“I dare you to… Let Adrian do a body shot off your stomach.” Trevor smirked. Adrian tittered.

“Why do all of these involve me?” He asked.

“Consider it your initiation to a college party, hun,” she chuckled, getting sugar from the kitchen, “It’s fun, Adrian! Just try it once, okay?” He blushed, but he nodded, excited to try it for the first time. He felt dizzy and confident, the world around his fuzzier and easier to manage. Something like a body shot, that he would usually decline, suddenly seemed very desirable. 

“Okay, how do you do it?” He asked. Trevor stood up and picked up a lime wedge.

“So you need sugar, rum, and a lime. First, Sypha lays down on the couch, her shirt pulled up, then you lick her neck, and I put the sugar there. I’ll pour a shot into her belly button, and put the lime wedge in her mouth. You lick the sugar off her neck, then suck the shot out of her belly button, and then you take the lime wedge from her mouth.”He explained, while Sypha giggled in excitement and pulled her top up to expose her smooth stomach. Adrian laughed over the loud music, not expecting that. She looked beautiful. He came over as she laid down, and Trevor poured the shot.

“Okay, lick her neck,” Trevor directed. Sypha smiled as Adrian kneeled down next to her and did as he was told. His tongue was warm and slippery against her neck, and she shivered as Trevor added sugar. He placed the lime wedge in Sypha’s mouth between her teeth. Adrian was blushing hard and tried to contain his excitement, looking at the fruit between her plump lips. ‘Sin Pijama’ played on the TV, the Spanish beat filling the darkness of Adrian’s apartment as he came closer.

_Si tú me llamas_

_Nos vamo' pa' tu casa_

_Nos quedamo' en la cama_

_Sin pijama, sin pijama (yo', yo', yo')_

_Voy pa' contarle mis secretos a tu almohada_

_Mientras tanto hagamos video llamada_

_Me manda foto', fotico'_

_Mostrando todo, todito_

“Here. Take the shot,” Trevor said, leaning over the couch and pouring out a little Bacardi in Sypha’s belly button. Sypha squelched at the cold feeling on her stomach. Adrian huffed, but he obliged, first taking the shot from her belly button, and then moving on top of her to get the lime wedge out of her mouth, in a mockery of a kiss, their lips only brushing. But Sypha was quick and propped herself up on her elbow, taking the lime out of his mouth and kissed him in earnest, licking the flavor off his lips. Adrian kissed her back, heartbeat increasing like crazy as she kissed him while Trevor watched them.

_Cuando llegue desbaratamo' la cama_

_Baby, hoy no vamo' a dormir (no)_

_Baby, hoy no vamo' a dormir (uh-uh-uh)_

_Que no traje pijama_

_Porque no me dio la gana_

“Okay, okay. Enough, come on. That wasn’t the dare,” he stopped them, jealousy flaring. Sypha was still propped up on her elbow, stomach bare because her tight tee shirt was still pushed up. Adrian swallowed thickly, looking over her lips, elegant neck, perky breasts, and down to her exposed belly. He had never done such things before, and it threw him off guard. He still couldn’t believe Sypha had kissed him. The feeling was still making his face tingle and his heart beat out of control. He turned away.

“What, so you get to make out with him a long time, but I can’t even a little? That’s not fair,” she complained, sitting up and pulling her shirt down. Trevor went to the kitchen.

“I was just doing your dare, Sypha,” he rebuked, to which she laughed. Adrian took a drink from his glass, mostly ice at that point. He felt the need to calm down, the blood still pumping through his veins.

“Yeah, right. I dared you to make out with him for ten seconds, and you kissed him for at least a minute. Probably two.”

“So what, I can’t keep time when I’m drunk, you should have counted!” He threw his hands up. She laughed deeply, but she didn’t continue.

“I kind of have the munchies. Can I have something to eat, Adrian?” She asked, wondering about a snack. Adrian cleared his throat and tried to regain his composure after what had transpired in the living room that left him breathless. He joined them by the fridge.

“Yeah, what do you want? Fruit? Cheese? Gelato?”

“Ooh! Gelato, please,” she hummed happily, leaning against Adrian playfully. He chuckled.

“I’ll take something salty, if you have it,” Trevor requested, sitting on a barstool.

“He loves beef jerky,” Sypha noted, leaning back against the countertop. Adrian handed her the Talentini gelato and got her a spoon.

“I don’t have beef jerky, but I do have some salami in here, do you want that?” He asked, and Trevor said he did. He got them both snacks and pulled out some fruit for himself. They ate for a while, enjoying each other’s company and chatting about music.

“What’s next, party Captain?” Sypha asked Trevor, a little drunkenly. He smiled.

“Next level Truth or Dare. Things that are hard to say yes to or hard to answer.”

“Okay, let’s do it,” she beamed, putting down the gelato, “Trevor you can start.”

“Alright, Adrian, truth, or dare?” He asked happily.

“Truth.” Adrian put the fruit away and turned to face Trevor, worried at the question he would ask. Trevor tilted his head, thinking. 

“...You seem like the type of guy who would shave his pubes.” Trevor assumed out of nowhere, to which Sypha and Adrian both blew up in laughter. Adrian exhaled sharply.

“What kind of insult is that supposed to be? Is that even supposed to be an insult? I have no idea.” Adrian chuckled, shaking his head in confusion.

“It’s just an observation,” Trevor shrugged, “A thought if you will… So my question is: do you have pubic hair, or do you not?” He ate a piece of salami. Adrian visibly blushed.

“...Not - at the moment, no.” He answered awkwardly. Trevor laughed.

“I knew it!” He yelled, finishing off the salami with some Limoncello. 

“Your turn,” Adrian smirked, ready to get him back.

“Dare.”

“Okay, I dare you to shave off all your public hair, Trevor.” Adrian challenged, quickly and confidently. Trevor’s mouth fell open. Sypha started laughing again, adoring their back and forth.

“Do it! Do it!” She chanted, clapping her hands together. Trevor scowled.

“What? I don’t even know how. Wouldn’t that hurt? Around the ballsack? No way. I- I think I’ll pass.” 

“Okay, drink, then,” Adrian ordered, “We should switch to charades soon, sans alcohol.”

He watched as Trevor took a shot.

“We need to do one last hurrah before we finish the game. I have an idea. Adrian, you need to ask for a dare,” he suggested, eyeing him mischievously. Adrian looked at Sypha and then down at Trevor, wondering what the man had in mind. 

“Um, okay. Dare?” Music echoed throughout the dimly lit apartment, Spanish songs playing one after the other.

"First, I dare you to put on the most ridiculous, sexiest outfit you own and show it to us. I bet you have crazy shit in that giant closet of yours," Trevor insisted, and Adrian pursed his lips.

"Uh, I'm sure I have something. Wait here," he told them, going to his closet and coming back in a mostly see-through black button-down shirt. It was loose and embroidered with moons. Only the front panel wasn't see through. Adrian looked dangerously sexy in it. Sypha catcalled him, and Trevor laughed.

"Damn!" She gasped, looking at the exotic shirt that he somehow pulled off. She had never seen a man wear something like that, let alone pull off a see-through button-down shirt. He managed to look elegant, posing a little. 

"Wow. Just... wow. Do you own anything gayer than that?" Trevor wondered aloud. Adrian rolled his eyes.

"I'm bi, not gay, there's a difference."

"Okay, right. So, do you own anything more flamboyant and expensive than that? 'Cause I want to see it!" He urged, walking up to Adrian, who was huffing in semi-annoyance. 

“Come on! Adrian, I dare you to put on the most expensive, queer outfit you own, get up on the island, and dance around. And we’ll take pictures! It'll be fun,” He smirked, getting off the stool. Sypha encouraged him.

"Yeah! Come on, I'll join you up there," she chuckled. Adrian pondered it, leaning on the counter. 

“I’m not going to wear an expensive suit, but… I have do have a $10,000 sequined Saint Laurent jacket.”

“Holy shit.” Trevor almost spat out his mojito. Sypha gasped in disbelief.

“That’s insane!” She yelled, and Adrian nodded a little.

“I got it because I was involved in the fashion show. I didn’t buy it.” 

“Wow! Okay, what’s your most expensive pair of jeans?” Trevor asked. Adrian walked towards him.

“...I have some very questionable rainbow crystal skinny jeans worth about $1600.”

“Ha! Oh my god. Let’s see ‘em. Go change!” Trevor urged, excited as they went to Adrian’s closet. He came out of the closet, so to speak, in a glittery, jewel covered, ensemble that definitely wasn’t heterosexual. He wore a blue and black ombre sequined bomber jacket and tight jeweled black skinny jeans. Trevor and Sypha whistled and cheered as Adrian did mock poses and flipped his long blonde hair over his shoulder, looking dramatic and sophisticated.

“Go do them up on the counter!” He urged, and Adrian laughed as they went to the kitchen and moved glasses out of the way so he could stand on top of the marble surface. Adrian did various model poses in the $10,000 jacket as Trevor and Sypha took pictures from below. He laughed in glee at their reactions, not used to doing things that were so fun and casual. He looked genuinely happy, more than Trevor had ever really seen him been, and deep down Trevor was quite proud that he had made that happen.

“The camera loves you, work it, darling,” Sypha mocked a British accent. After a while, Adrian came down to sit on the counter’s edge, a lingering smile on his gorgeous face. He pointed at Trevor and his cheap outfit.

“I want to see Trevor in something that isn’t from Walmart.” Adrian proposed. Trevor huffed loudly, crossing his muscular arms.

“Hey, Walmart is a respectable establishment.”

“Sure it is,” Adrian rolled his eyes.

“Can he try on one of your suits?” Sypha asked.

“No, I don’t think he’d fit. He’s a lot more muscular than I am.” Adrian remembered the way Trevor’s arms felt under his fingers when they had made out before.

“Is there something of yours he can fit into? I want to see what he would look like rich. I’m curious…” Sypha posed, looking him over. Trevor raised a brow.

“Hm…” Adrian thought, “You can wear something from last season. That way, in case you rip it-”

“I’m not gonna rip anything.” he protested, arms up.

“Leave your glass in here. Let’s go to my closet...” The trio walked inside as Adrian flipped on the light. Sypha laid back comfortably on the plush velvet ottoman. Trevor sat beside her teasing the exposed skin on her midriff, tickling her.

“Hey, stop it,” she giggled furiously as he tickled her, “Come on, haha!” Trevor continued and she curled up in a ball, laughing along with him. Adrian pulled outfits for Trevor

“Okay, we can do this Fendi jacket for you… and this oversized Wacko Maria shirt should fit, try that on,” Adrian handed the shirt for him and Trevor stood up, slipping his shirt off over his head. He had strong, muscular arms and chest, and chiseled abs. Plenty of hockey practice and conditioning to thank for that. Sypha whistled from the ottoman, where she was leaning back on her elbows.

“Woo! Someone’s been working out,” she complimented loudly as Trevor threw his shirt aside. He laughed as she poked his hard abs. Adrian said nothing, but he stared at Trevor’s perfectly muscled chest and abdomen for a bit too long, shaking it off. Trevor put on the white shirt with images of tigers all over in fire. It was an unusual shirt, and Trevor looked in the mirror.

“Looks damn good. I like tigers,” he was wobbling a bit, definitely a bit drunk. Adrian worried a bit for his expensive closet, ready to throw Trevor out at any moment.

“Let me try the jacket,” he asked, taking it from Adrian’s hands. The oversized Fendi jacket was reversible, and Trevor wore it with the leather side out. He nodded, liking the pilot look.

“You look hot in that!” Sypha laughed, and Adrian nodded, pulling at the coat to get it to sit right.

“How much is this jacket? Maybe I’ll get one.” Trevor muttered. Adrian scowled, thinking.

“It was about- about $4,000,” Adrian answered, like it was nothing. Trevor laughed.

“Well, I guess I'll have to save up for a while, then,” he joked, taking it off. Adrian considered giving it to him for a moment, but he doubted Trevor would accept it anyway, so he just hung it back up. Sypha rose and went through his clothing. They talked for a while and lost track of the time, entertained by Trevor’s witty antics, and the comfortableness that came with being intoxicated. An hour later and they were still in the closet, Trevor and Sypha laying on the huge ottoman. Adrian sat down beside them. Trevor was very drunk at that point, although he was still lucid enough to hold a conversation. He looked at Adrian and his perfect, elegant profile, thinking. There was something on his mind.

“Hey, I have a question for you,” he posed drunkenly, touching his shoulder. Adrian turned to look at him, tilting his head.

“What is it?”

“...Who’s Alucard?”

* * *

**A/N: This chapter actually took a lot of work, but it was also fun. Please review!**

**Does anyone else think that Jeffree Star and Adrian are kind of similar? I get that vibe sometimes. Especially in Jeffree's old house tour with Shane where he's showing off all his designer clothes and drinking suspiciously red juice... and then he says "and now that I'm 300 years old" haha!**

PS - If anyone would be willing to beta read for me I would be eternally grateful. I'm in need of an editor seeing that I'm working on like four different projects at once.


	9. Confrontation and Repentance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor reflects on his drunken fight with Adrian and seeks repentance for his actions. Later, the trio talks of family and the future.

**CHAPTER NINE:**

* * *

Adrian’s Coat:[ https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/givenchy-long-wool-cashmere-coat/product/0400011972639?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306641434&R=3615208384035&P_name=Givenchy&N=306641434+4294929615+4294929603+4294929611+4294929616&bmUID=n8Jrh7v ](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/givenchy-long-wool-cashmere-coat/product/0400011972639?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306641434&R=3615208384035&P_name=Givenchy&N=306641434+4294929615+4294929603+4294929611+4294929616&bmUID=n8Jrh7v)

Adrian’s Sweater: [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/boss-gideo-roll-neck-jumper-item-14545288.aspx?storeid=9359 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/boss-gideo-roll-neck-jumper-item-14545288.aspx?storeid=9359)

Jeans: [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/gucci-faded-effect-straight-leg-jeans-item-14549556.aspx?storeid=9359 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/gucci-faded-effect-straight-leg-jeans-item-14549556.aspx?storeid=9359)

Necklace: [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/northskull-atticus-skull-seal-pendant-item-14210687.aspx?storeid=9189 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/northskull-atticus-skull-seal-pendant-item-14210687.aspx?storeid=9189)

* * *

Sypha (8:31 am) treffi, can you please get me a coffee from Starbucks? I’m barely awake 

Trevor (8:33 am) sure what do you want? 

Trevor (8:33 am) and what booth are you at

Sypha (8:35 am) I want a vanilla latte with an extra shot, please. I’m in the back corner booth.

The next morning, Trevor and Sypha went to get breakfast at the cafeteria together, per usual. Trevor had a mild hangover but he was very used to that. In fact, he barely noticed the subtle throb in the back of his skull because it was usually there, anyway, for some reason or another. Too little caffeine or too much alcohol. Too many bad decisions, culminated. He got himself a breakfast sandwich and a cappuccino from the Starbucks in their cafeteria, and after he got Sypha’s drink he went to the booth. She seemed to be recovering from their wild night, not too many hours before. Students chatted loudly at tables in the brightly lit cafeteria, shuffling around and sipping Starbucks. Trevor sat down at their favorite booth in the corner. Sypha was wearing her faded blue ‘namaste’ t-shirt and her black jeans with combat boots. Her hair looked unstyled and a bit overgrown, her eyes tired and her face without makeup, but Trevor still thought she looked nice. _She always does. She’s beautiful._

“Morning, Sypha,” Trevor grunted, plopping down on the other side of the booth, throwing his Jansport backpack to the side. Sypha poked her eggs around, a little nauseous from the night before. 

“Morning. Sorry if I’m antisocial this morning. I don’t feel great,” she apologized, barely looking up. She cracked her back and offered a weak smile.

“From the drinking last night?”

“I don’t know. I’m still a little crossed, I think. I’m probably still high…” she admitted, and then Trevor noticed her slightly red and bloodshot eyes. She took a drink from her water bottle.

“Oof. Sorry. Yeah, you smoked a lot last night. But I know how to throw a good party, don’t I? Just eat up, drink the coffee I bought you, you’ll feel better.”

“Thanks.” A silence fell. After several minutes of sipping her vanilla latte and watching Trevor eat, she did start to feel better. She kept her eyes on him, observing. His short black hair was tousled and his chin was covered with stubble. He still managed to look pretty good after a night of drinking, probably because that was a very common event for him and his body could handle it. His black v-neck tee was a little loose and shapeless, but his broad chest and muscular arms helped him fill it out. She thought he looked cute in the green jogger pants from Walmart, even though she wasn’t going to say that at the moment. For a minute, she went over the events of the night before in her mind, struggling to remember and process them all. Trevor was always the life of the party, but last night was a little different. He ate his sandwich and went on his phone, checking social media and looking guilty, avoiding her prying eyes. Eventually, she made up her mind and decided to ask him.

“So, what really happened with you two last night? What was that?” She asked. 

“What do you mean?” He scowled.

“Well, you and Adrian made out for like three minutes and then, later on, you left me alone and you two went to the bathroom together... What were you doing?” Sypha wondered, eyebrow raised, gripping her coffee cup. Trevor glared at her, schooling his expression to be normal.

“First of all, it was not that long. Don’t be dramatic. And please God, do not tell anyone that. It was just a dare. Your dare. Don’t spin shit out of nothing. Adrian pulled me aside later because he was mad at me. I… You know what? Nevermind. I was being dumb. We put it behind us. But we weren't fooling around or whatever nonsense you’re imagining. He was angry at me. He thought -nevermind. I don’t want to talk about it. It was a mistake.” Trevor cut himself off, curt and obviously disgruntled about the night before. That morning in the shower he had wanted to punch the wall thinking about what he had almost revealed the night before. He hadn’t been thinking straight when he kissed Adrian, not in any sense of the word. Or when he revealed a little too much about his Tinder discovery.

_“...Who’s Alucard?”_

_Adrian’s gold eyes went wide, suddenly angry._

_“What? Where did you hear that name?” He clipped, trying not to raise his voice. Trevor sat up slowly, a bit dizzy and absentminded. He had wanted to see Adrian blush again. But then it hit him. It hit him where he had actually seen Adrian’s fake name, and if he revealed that he knew Adrian’s pseudonym on his Tinder profile, then he would have to admit that he was bisexual. And he definitely wasn’t about to do that. His eyes widened, matching Adrian’s, who quickly dragged him out of the closet and into the bathroom, closing the door behind them._

_“I’ll ask again. What are you talking about? Where did you hear that name?” He interrogated, stepping in closer. Trevor’s mind reeled, as trying to think through lies was much more difficult in his drunken state. He placeted Adrian at first, putting his hand on the blonde’s shoulder._

_“Calm down. I - I heard from someone at school that you go by that name sometimes. I didn’t spread it around.” He tried to back away from the truth, but Adrian wasn’t buying it. He frowned and narrowed his gold eyes, suspicious of the lie._

_“Who at school?” Adrian asked. Trevor sighed, looking away._

_“I don’t know, some guy in our class,” he lied again. Adrian huffed._

_“You never chat with people in our class. You barely talk to anyone.”_

_“Sure I do! I talk to people sometimes. I’m not a complete loner, like you. At least I actually have some friends,” he shot back hotly, drunken anger flaring. Trevor watched Adrian’s expression fall completely, reverting back to an icy, cold glare that meant he had gone too far. Trevor didn’t even know why he had said that, and instantly regretted it, hating himself for saying something so mean. Adrian stepped backward, beautiful sad golden eyes averted for the moment. His eyelashes brushed his pale cheeks as he looked down. Trevor thought the guy might start crying, and he wanted to punch himself in the face for saying that. He sighed in self-hatred._

_“I’m sorry-” he began, but Adrian cut him off, his tone serious._

_“Get out. Change out of my clothes. You can walk home-” Adrian whispered, his voice dangerous and guarded once more, and he turned to open the door. Trevor pushed his hand away, stepping in towards the elegant blonde and trying to prevent him from walking out. Trevor’s heart was beating faster, knowing that he might have just messed up the only two relationships he had in his life. Sypha may not forgive him for saying something so mean that was completely unwarranted._

_“Adrian. Please, listen to me. Shit. I’m sorry. I am. I’m just drunk... I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I did, but - it was mean. Really mean. Fuck, I just- I don’t know how to act around you. I don’t hate you! I just- I feel like I should…” Trevor ranted messily, sighing and gripping the counter behind him to steady himself. Adrian’s face was still reserved, disappointed. A lovely white statue set in angst. He watched Trevor carefully until the man met his eyes. When he saw the guilt there, he let out a breath._

_“Are you bisexual, Trevor?” Adrian asked, very quietly. Trevor’s face contorted into shock, eyebrows drawing in, bright blue eyes angry once more. Trevor would later reflect upon that moment and wish he would have known it would be too hard to fool a man as smart as Adrian was._

_“No! What the fuck?! Why would you ask me that?” He protested, too angry and too loud in response. Adrian observed his anger cooly with a side glare, leaning against the wall._

_“Because that’s the name on my Tinder profile. I didn’t want to use my real name. And I just made it recently. I barely showed my face in the pictures. I don’t think it would be that easy to tell it’s me. I think, maybe, you have your Tinder set to bisexual mode, and you looked at my profile and saw the name. I doubt anyone would make the connection, because I try to keep my sexuality pretty private. I’m really not that popular on campus, and as you pointed out, it’s not like I have many friends.” He admitted, stating the truth and hoping Trevor would own up to it._

_Trevor swallowed thickly, knowing he was in deep and murky waters._

_“I - I just heard it from a guy in class. I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not bi, okay? I’m straight. So shut up. Just because I kissed you doesn’t mean I’m a homo... It was a dare. Plus, you kind of look like a woman anyways.” He crossed his arms, taking the offensive again, trying to climb out of the hole he had dug himself into. Adrian clenched his jaw, swallowing thickly. An uncomfortable silence passed. He blinked repeatedly, digging his nails into his palms and willing himself not to cry. There was a darkness in his eyes that almost scared Trevor, and he felt worse about himself the more they talked. Finally, Adrian spoke._

_“You’re an asshole, Trevor. And here I thought it was just an act.” He went to leave again, but Trevor tried to stop him. He had to actually pull him away from the door to stop him from leaving._

_“Hey, come on! I said I was sorry.” Trevor huffed like he didn’t deserve being called such a name. Adrian whipped around, long blonde hair flipping over his shoulder. He was suddenly very angry, brows furrowed, stepping towards Trevor and pinning him down with a fierce glare, eyes watering._

_“And then you kept insulting me! Do you ever think for one second about the feelings of others? Do you ever think about my feelings, Trevor? How was I supposed to know you're some straight asshole, kissing me for what? For a joke? To see if I’d like it? So you could make fun of me? What kind of messed up bullshit is that?” He looked like he was ready to punch Trevor, in honesty, or break down in tears, and Trevor didn’t want either of those things to happen._

_“Argh- I’m sorry! I didn’t kiss you to embarrass you or anything. It’s just - complicated with you. Okay? And I’m sorry I said you don’t have any friends. That was really fucking rude. I shouldn’t have said that.” He put his hand on Adrian’s broad shoulder._

_“But then you continued to make fun of me!” He protested, brushing off Trevor’s hand._

_“How?” He asked dumbly, drunkenly. Adrian sneered, nose scrunching in anger._

_“You just made fun of my sexuality and the way that I look. How am I supposed to forgive you, when you keep acting like such a dick? Why should I, if you keep treating me like this?!” He whisper-yelled, trying to keep their voices from being overheard by Sypha. Trevor gripped the countertop, head spinning. They were both too drunk for such a conversation._

_“Argh! Fuck, please stop. Just listen, listen. I have to explain myself. Okay?” Trevor ran a nervous hand through his short hair. Adrian sighed, exasperated._

_“I’ll try really hard to stop being a piece of shit. I know that I’m an asshole sometimes. I’m sorry. I have - nevermind, just- I’m not trying to make fun of your sexuality. Okay? I just got nervous. If you started spreading that around... if you started spreading it around that I’m bi- I would get so much shit for it. Do you think my team would accept that? Fuck no. They’d- they’d call me a faggot, and then they’d try to get me kicked off the team. Or the coach would. They’re definitely not gay-friendly or anything like that. Do you think they’d just high five me and say ‘Good for you’?! Fuck no. They’d be seriously disgusted.”_

_“Do you realize- I’ve taken naked showers with them for years. I’ve changed with them a million times. If they suddenly heard that I was a homo, they’d freak out. I would get pushed off the team. Or they’d harass me until I quit. And then I’d be humiliated, and I’d lose my scholarship. And I’d probably go back to being homeless. So you can’t go around spreading shit about me being bi, or gay, or whatever. I’m not. Please don’t do that. Seriously,” he pleaded, slurring his words a bit. He tried explaining his worries to Adrian with a seriousness in his voice that was unusual. There was a reason Trevor didn’t put his face or anything personal in his Tinder bio, and why he barely ever met up with guys. He was very careful not to reveal his bisexuality to anyone, even to Sypha._

_“..I won’t tell anyone Trevor. Okay? I just need you to stop acting like this. I’m sorry your team is homophobic, but that doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole to me all the time-”_

_“I’m not gay!” Trevor whisper-yelled frantically. He looked like he could give himself a hernia, going by the sheer amount of stress on his face. Adrian placated him, grabbing his shoulders._

_“Okay, okay. Calm down. Take a deep breath,” he instructed, and Trevor turned to the side, sighing. He tried to relax._

_“Adrian, do you understand?” He exhaled. The blonde nodded._

_“I get it. I won’t tell anyone, okay? But you need to stop being so rude.”_

_“Okay, I will. Promise. Just - please don’t ever tell anyone that we made out or anything. Even as a dare. I’m serious. I would get such crap for it from my team. Please.” He asked, looking Adrian in the eyes. He blinked, frowning._

_“...I won’t say anything.” Trevor let out a breath of relief._

_“Thank you. I’ll try to start being nicer, okay. I’m going to work on it. Seriously. Starting right now. I’m going to try to be - less of an asshole, okay? I’ll try being nicer to you… I promise.”_

_“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Adrian’s face was stone, his voice low._

_“Look, I know I pissed you off. But I’ll make up for it.” Trevor tried to get the pissed expression off Adrian’s handsome face, unsuccessfully._

_“Okay… you two should probably go. It’s late,” Adrian seemed closed off, no longer willing to talk, “Put the clothes in the closet and tell Sypha to come to the kitchen. I’ll order you two an Uber back to campus. My driver’s at home by now.”_

Sypha waved her hand in front of Trevor’s face, trying to get him out of the trance he was in. He startled, sitting up suddenly.

“What?”

“I was talking. You were just spaced out… did you guys have a really bad fight or something last night?” She asked, taking a bite from her toast. Trevor getting in fights was a very common occurrence.

“Uh, yeah, kinda. We did have a fight. I was- I was being really stupid. I said something I shouldn’t have. A couple of things, actually. I don’t know why, there’s just something about him that just makes me angry - or crazy or something. He got really pissed off… understandably. And then I tried to back out of it, and it just got really uncomfortable. I’m- I’m ashamed, honestly.” He admitted, dropping his head again. Sypha raised her eyebrows, putting down her toast. She licked her lips. Fights were common with Trevor, but definitely not apologies.

“Wow. That’s not good. Did he accept your apology?” She wondered. Trevor grunted.

“Not really. I mean he did with his words but not with his- expression, you know? He’s pissed at me… Fuck. I don’t know what to do, Sypha. I messed up.” He buried his head in his hands, threading them through dark hair. Sypha put her hand on his arm, conciliatory. 

“Just grab him after class, go outside and apologize, one-on-one. Ask him to forgive you for whatever you said, and, I don’t know - offer to hang out with him or something. You should start actually being friends with him, Trevor. He’s cool and it’s clear that you like him. Let the whole conspiracy theory thing go and just get along with him. He likes you, too, when you're not yelling at him or calling him an asswipe.” She sighed heavily, taking a serious tone at the end. She started to whisper so other students in the cafeteria couldn’t overhear them.

“We’re both getting tired of that shit, Trevor. I’m really sick of it, honestly. I thought - last night that you were really over it. But then, I guess you went back to being a dick. That’s probably why he got really mad. Look, if you want us to stay your friends, and hang out with you, you have to be nice. End of story. Capiche? Adrian’s my friend, so you’re going to have to get along with him if you want to be friends with me. I’m serious.” Trevor knew she was, and he looked down at the table, as shameful as a dog who had dug in the trash.

“...Okay. Okay, I will.”

“Thank you,” she sighed, reaching over and grabbing his hand.

“I’m sorry, Sypha. I don’t want you to be mad at me. And… I don’t want him to be mad at me, either. I just... you know I have problems dealing with people. I don’t like to trust-” he started, his voice very low, but Sypha cut him off, squeezing his hand.

“I know, sweetie. And Adrian will get that too if you just explain. And mean it. Okay? He’s a good guy, Trevor, he’s not some Illuminati alien freak or anything. And he would like you too if you could just get your act together and be nice to him. I’m sure of it.”

“I’ll try. I promise.”

She reached over to kiss his cheek sweetly, and Trevor sighed at the feeling. _I love you,_ he thought to himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. He smiled instead, hoping she knew by the look in his eyes. And in truth, he couldn’t say he loved her for another reason than fear of rejection. He couldn’t speak the words because there were feelings inside himself that he didn’t understand, and he was beginning to realise for the first time that his feelings towards Adrian were not as simple as obsessive hatred. Soon they were seated in the lecture hall with time to spare before the class started, and when Adrian walked in, Sypha waved him over. His steps were elegant, smooth. He slipped off his Prada bag and his light beige Givenchy wool coat as he approached the table.

“Morning,” she greeted, giving him a Spanish kiss on both cheeks, which really was just pressing her cheek against his and making the sounds. Adrian smiled a bit and returned the cheek kisses. He was wearing his light beige Givenchy cashmere coat that made him look every bit the billionaire’s son. Underneath, he wore a tight black turtleneck and light wash jeans with a simple gold coin necklace. _How does he always look so good? Seriously._

“Good morning,” he replied, sitting down next to Sypha. Golden eyes flicked to Trevor, but he quickly averted them and focused on taking out his laptop and getting ready for class. Sypha noticed the tension between them but said nothing.

“How are you?” Adrian asked Sypha quietly, probably noticing her red eyes. She yawned blearily, stretching out her arms.

“I’m okay. Still a little tired and… not prepared for a 9 am. How about you?”

“Tired, but fine.” He opened his laptop.

“No hangover?” She whispered, sipping her latte with raised eyebrows. Adrian looked to Trevor again briefly before settling his gaze on the redhead beside him.

“No. I don’t get hangovers.”

“Wow. Lucky.” 

_I should say something, shouldn’t I?_

“Adrian. I’m - Can we talk after class?” He asked. Sypha backed up, trying not to get in the way of whatever was happening between them. She busied herself with finishing her coffee.

“...Okay,” was his curt answer, and he quickly returned to doing homework on his laptop.

Then the professor came in for the lecture and the matter was settled. They listened to the lecture, Sypha, and Adrian taking notes. Trevor found it hard to focus. He spent most of the class thinking about Adrian and sighing occasionally. He hated the awkwardness and the guilt in the pit of his stomach. After class, the trio went outside.

“I’m going to the library. Come and join me when you’re done talking, okay?” Sypha asked, smiling over her shoulder as she walked away. It was sunny outside, students filtering out of the lecture building and heading in different directions. Trevor walked far out of the way, against the building, so they could have some privacy. Adrian followed, more slowly, old leaves crunching beneath his perfect Prada boots.

“Adrian, I just… I want to apologize properly this time. Soberly,” he started, watching as the beautiful blonde put on a pair of black Saint Laurent sunglasses. His coat was perfectly smooth and hugged his body just right. Golden blonde hair fell around his shoulders, tousled in just the right way. Trevor turned, preferring not to look at the man and get sucked in by his beauty.

“I told you it’s alright. Remember? Perhaps you were too drunk to remember… It’s fine. Let’s just move on,” he replied, a little touchy. Trevor noticed the slight edge in his voice. An awkward silence passed.

“You still seem pissed at me,” Trevor whispered, wincing in the sunlight.

“I’m not. Can we let it go?” He asked, more normally this time. His indecipherable gaze stayed on Trevor until he answered. Trevor sighed through his nose and nodded slowly.

“Yeah. Okay. You just-you don’t really seem friendly anymore. And I feel shitty because I made you feel bad last night. And I wish I wouldn’t have.” He looked up, ashamed. Adrian sighed, stepping closer.

“Then why did you say those things, Trevor?” His voice was quiet. Trevor’s face went blank as Adrian stared at him, thinking. 

“I… I was nervous. Didn’t I explain last night? My team… if they thought I was gay-”

“Right. I remember you saying that. But I wasn’t going to tell anyone, though,” Adrian sighed, fishing a pack of Malboros out of his slim backpack. He started to light it, but there was a breeze in the alley between the buildings. Trevor helped him, taking the lighter as they used their hands to keep the wind away. He tried to stare at the cigarette and not Adrian’s face. After a few tries, it lit. He took a drag, stepping back and leaning against the brick wall.

“I didn’t know that.” Trevor noticed that Adrian didn’t offer to bum him one.

“Why the hell would I try to get your hockey team to harass you with homophobia, Trevor? I would never do something like that. Clearly you don’t know me at all…” he exhaled smoke through his nose. Trevor scowled. A breeze came through again, causing a chill to go up his spine. Trevor shivered, putting up his hood.

“You can’t blame me for being nervous. I did kiss you.”

“Only as a dare. You’ve made that abundantly clear,” he quipped, putting the cigarette to his lips. Trevor studied Adrian for a second. _Did he… did he want to kiss me? Maybe he did. Oh. Oh. I’m an idiot. That’s why he’s so angry… Fuck._

“Please forgive me, Adrian,” Trevor apologized, standing still and entirely serious. Blue eyes burned with intensity, set under furrowed dark brows. Adrian put his sunglasses on top of his head, looking at him clearly as if to see if Trevor was being serious. He said nothing for a second, considering the man. Thoughts reeled through his smart mind, but he tried to push them away, focusing on the sincerity of his new friend.

“Alright. Alright, I’ll forgive you,” he nodded, pushing off the wall. Trevor sighed.

“Thanks. And I’m sorry for saying you don’t have any friends. Seriously. I- I don’t really know why I said that. I was just angry and-” Adrian cut him off.

“It’s alright. I forgive you, okay? Let’s just let it go. And it’s not like you were really wrong, anyway…” he drifted off, taking another drag and looking out at the commons. His golden hair glittered in the midday sun. Trevor scowled again.

“Really?”

“Well, I suppose I have a couple. But we’re not that close. I cut off a lot of my old relationships. Which, to be honest, weren’t many,” Adrian disclosed, looking back at Trevor and blowing smoke out the side of his mouth. Trevor made a noncommittal noise. 

“Really?”

“What do you want, the stereotypical ‘I’m weird and people don’t really like me’ speech? It’s pretty much true. I’m a bisexual, androgynous man. I play the violin and I study Neuroscience. In the summer I drive a Ferrari and try to get out of business meetings. I like drawing and hiding my smoking habits from my billionaire parents. Most people think my father’s a manipulative psychopath or a member of the Illuminati. Others say my mom's a gold-digging whore. Needless to say, I don’t really relate to most people…”

Trevor laughed.

“I have high standards, and that makes me more lonely. I don’t like people who are untrustworthy, or shallow. Or people like my peers that just spend through their trust funds and die a meaningless life. That’s not who I want to be around. That’s why my circle’s really small,” he drifted off, taking a drag. He was somewhere in the distance, and Trevor could tell. 

“...Same, actually. About the small circle thing. What I said last night is actually really ironic because Sypha’s my only close friend. My other guy friends are actually pretty distant. We’re not that close.” He explained. 

“Well, they sound like a bunch of homophobes, so I don’t blame you,” Adrian tilted his head, hair falling over his shoulder in voluminous waves. Trevor grunted, trying not to focus on his perfect glittery hair.

“They’re definitely not perfect. And, you’re- the closest guy friend I’ve had in a long time, so - well, I already apologized. I guess the only other thing I want to say is please give me a clean slate. I’ll clean up my act. I’ll be nice. No more vindictive taunting or ridiculing, okay? Let’s be friends. I’ve known you for long enough to be able to tell you’re a decent guy and not the evil bastard I thought you were going to be.” Trevor felt awkward saying it, but he needed to get it off his chest. When he was done, he looked up, and Adrian was smiling. His eyes seemed brighter, lighter, and not because of the sun. Trevor almost gasped when Adrian hugged him briefly. He quickly patted him on the back before he pulled away. It was a quick hug, but Trevor had to admit he liked it. _Sypha was right. And Jesus Christ he smells good. Like cigarettes and Chanel. Fuck._

When he looked up and met Adrian’s gaze it was warm and amiable. There was a tie of camaraderie between them that wasn’t present a moment ago. It shocked Trevor how quickly Adrian could change from a cold, reclusive loner to a warm-hearted friend. He wasn’t used to that. _I guess it was the apology? And a real one, not a quick, drunken one._

Trevor didn’t know what to say, so he just blurted something out to clear the palpable tension between them. 

“What cologne is that?” 

Trevor’s voice sounded like he was obviously trying to change the subject to something other than their sudden bromance, and Adrian laughed lightly. _He has such a nice laugh._ He couldn’t help but smile, seeing Adrian’s beautiful face break, seriousness vanishing. He looked like a teenager again, and it made Trevor happy. That was the emotion he wanted to elicit in Adrian.

“Ah, it’s Sauvage, by Christian Dior.” He was still smiling as he put out his cigarette.

“-it’s nice.” Trevor replied, awkwardly, rubbing his neck. Adrian chuckled again.

“Thanks,” he started to walk away, throwing his Prada bag over his shoulder, “Come, on, weirdo. Let’s go.” Trevor followed him with an unprecedented lightness in his step and a smile on his face.

_Later that week..._

Trevor (7:34 pm) hey bitches 

Sypha (7:36 pm) EXCUSE ME?

Trevor (7:36 pm) Apologies. I’ll try again. Hello my friends. Would you like to hang out?

Sypha (7:37 pm) That’s better, treffi

Sypha (7:37 pm) Sure I can hang out if we study, I need to work on a history assignment

Adrian (7:40 pm) Just finished with bio lab. I can hang out for a while.

Sypha (7:41 pm) Okay let’s meet at the library!! 

Soon after they met at the campus library, taking a private study room with a table and chairs. The rest of the library was full of students working and talking in groups, the campus atmosphere lively and talkative. For a while, the trio worked on homework and chatted a bit, discussing classes and events on campus. 

“Oh, Sypha, I forgot! I got you something,” Adrian smiled, picking up his backpack and taking a box out. Sypha smiled, excited eyes fixed on the blonde.

“What?” She asked, mouth agape. Adrian handed over a Polaroid OneStep Instant Camera. She gasped.

“Adrian! Oh my god. You remembered…” Sypha exclaimed, taking the new camera into her hands, “I’ve been wanting one for so long. Thank you! Thanks so much.” She smiled, taking it out of the box and looking it over. Trevor tried not to sulk on the other side of the table. _I wish I could afford to get her something that nice._

“So, Adrian, you’re going to Tokyo this weekend, right?” Sypha asked, sipping a Starbucks iced tea. Adrian nodded.

“Yeah, I’m going to my family’s house tomorrow night. We’re leaving early Saturday morning. Meeting with distributors and the new store management. We’re testing out some different store designs and we need to see them in person,” he explained, highlighting something on his study sheet.

“Interesting. Are you going to do something fun while you’re there?” Sypha asked.

“Ah, we’ll go to an onsen, probably. And get some good food, of course. But we’re there for work.” Adrian looked up from his papers.

Trevor scowled.

“What’s an onsen?” He asked, crunching a carrot from a cafeteria lunch box. 

“It’s a Japanese hot springs bath. We go every time we’re in Japan. They’re very relaxing,” Adrian explained.

“That’s cool. It would be so exciting to go on trips like that, even though it’s for business. I can’t imagine all the amazing people you meet, and the experiences you have. Especially in a place like Japan, I bet you make really great connections there,” Sypha imagined, and Adrian’s face quickly fell. He looked deeply uncomfortable and sad for a moment, if only because of the emotion visible in his eyes. Sypha and Trevor both noticed.

“What is it? Did I say something-” She asked, touching Adrian’s hand and looking him over with a worried expression. He pulled back, drawing his hands into his lap and not meeting her gaze.

“It’s nothing. Nevermind,” he dismissed, reaching into his bag and pulling out a stick of gum, “I just drifted off.” His expression was still closed off, Trevor noticed. _What happened? Some sort of bad experience? He said he didn’t have any exes. Was he lying?_

“...You can tell us, you know. If you want to,” Sypha offered, it being clear that it was not in fact nothing. Adrian took in a deep inhale, setting his face to a smile that just barely passable and not entirely fake.

“It’s really nothing. Not a big deal. Tell me, Sypha, what do you want to take pictures of?” He changed the subject, mask adorned. Sypha went on to explain the things she wanted to take photos of: her friends, family, lovers, special events, beautiful spaces. Little things that felt like home. Travel, new experiences, nature.

“And I want to take some when we’re just hanging out together, you know? Capture the beauty in everyday life.”

“The beauty of the library?” Trevor grunted, unenthused. Sypha rolled her eyes.

“No, Treffi. The beauty of you two.” 

“What?” He choked, laughing. Adrian smiled, holding back laughter.

“You two are both beautiful. I love looking at you,” she smirked, mirth in her blue eyes. Trevor’s mouth fell open, looking at her with a stunned expression. Sypha laughed.

“Thank you. I think you’re both beautiful, too,” Adrian said softly, head tilting attractively, letting silky golden blonde hair fall over the side of his face and down his shoulder. Trevor watched as Sypha leaned towards him and placed a kiss on his cheek. A smile graced his lips, of course, because a kiss from Sypha could melt all wounds. 

“Let’s play truth or dare again! But less wild this time,” she suggested, and then chuckled, remembering the sensual body shots and table dancing from their last game. 

“Okay,” Adrian agreed, putting aside his papers and work. Trevor huffed.

“Alright, Adrian go first, then. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he smirked. Adrian almost always picked truth. 

“What’s - the most exciting thing you’re planning to do in the future?” 

“That’s hard. I have two exciting things coming up, actually. In March, I'm playing at a concert in Manhattan and there’s a ceremony afterward at Carnegie Hall, which I’m looking forward to... But I’m also going to Paris in July.”

“Wow! That’s amazing! What are you playing for the concert?” Sypha leaned forward on the table, blue eyes gleaming.

“Winter by Vivaldi. On the violin, of course,” Adrian tried to be modest, looking down coyly, but it was difficult considering his talent, and a small smirk broke out on his face. Sypha gasped.

“That’s such a hard song! I can’t wait to hear you play. I bet you’re amazing!” She beamed. Trevor scowled, looking over at the handsome blonde.

“Who’s Vivaldi?” He asked, clueless. Adrian chuckled a little.

“A classical composer. One of his most famous violin concertos is Le quattro stagioni, the Four Seasons. I’m playing the winter concerto in Manhattan. It’s coming up pretty soon.”

“Why is the performance in Manhattan?” Trevor asked, scowling.

“Oh... I won the Manhattan International Music Competition for my age group. They pick a few young musicians, and we get to go to Carnegie Hall and give our solos. I’m also performing in Shanghai next month,” he explained casually as if winning a prestigious international music competition was nothing unusual. _Jesus Christ this guy is talented._

“That’s incredible, Adrian,” Sypha smiled, proud of her friend. Adrian smiled too, looking down at the table.

“Thanks, Sypha. It should be a good experience. I hope.” 

“Can we hear you practice sometime?” Sypha asked, resting her head on her hand, enamored at the thought of Adrian and a violin, making beautiful music. Trevor was jealous but knew he couldn’t blame her for beaming at him. _Adrian is incredible._

“Sure. Of course you can,” Adrian looked between them, “You- you guys could also come to the performance if you want. I can get you both tickets to the city...” _Really?_ Trevor’s eyes went wide.

“Oh my god! Adrian, we couldn't ask that of you,” Sypha protested, shaking her strawberry blonde head.

“It’s not even two hundred per round trip ticket, Sypha. It’s nothing.” He shrugged, taking a sip from his water bottle. _Rich boy._ Sypha looked down, thinking about it. Adrian bit his lip for a minute, watching her.

“It would be nice to have you there. Will you think about it?” Adrian asked quietly. Sypha grabbed his hand, resting on top of the table. Trevor watched as she squeezed it lightly and smiled warmly at him. 

“Yes, we’ll think about it. Thank you for asking us to come.”

“I’m also going to Paris in late June,” Adrian added, thinking about his summer as he looked at his phone. 

“What are you doing in Paris?” Trevor asked, confused. 

“...Modeling, actually. I have a modeling job with IMG this summer in Paris and Nice.”

_Of course, he does._

“What?! Oh my God!” Sypha squeaked, trying to keep her voice down in the private library room. Adrian started chuckling.

“Calm down Sypha,” he giggled, almost blushing at her excitement.

“You're a real model! That’s so exciting. Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” She gasped, leaning forward, eyes alert and interested. Adrian huffed.

“It’s really not that big of a deal. It’s one shoot, it’s not my future career or anything,” he said, making a face to try and show that he didn’t really care either way.

“So then why are you doing it?” Trevor wondered, eyes narrowed. Adrian looked up, flipping his long wavy hair over his shoulder.

“I love the designer. Emporio Armani.” Adrian went on his laptop and showed them some of the concept designs, explaining why he loved the brand and why he wanted to represent them. 

“What are you modeling for? Clothing? Sunglasses?” Sypha asked.

“Clothing and swimwear, but I’ll be wearing some of their accessories, too.” 

“What do your parents think?” Trevor wondered aloud, remembering his overbearing and demanding family life. Adrian sighed through his nose.

“To be honest, my father is not really happy that I’m doing this. He would rather me spend my time on other things. I’m not sure if I’ll… be called away and have to do other things this July instead.”

His words were quiet, selected carefully, and perfectly expressed. Only a sprinkling of emotion. A glance and a barely perceptible frown on his well-formed lips. Soft and subtle. And yet Trevor couldn’t help but think it was nothing if not a desperate cry for help, the gentlest of pleas. He watched him most carefully, for anything, a tell, any small sign of the inner emotion of a man, unlike anyone he had ever met. 

“Why doesn't he want you to do it?” Sypha asked gently, careful not to step on any toes. Adrian put down his phone but Trevor noticed how his eyes lingered on it instead of meeting Sypha’s gaze.

“He thinks it’s a waste of time and energy. And he doesn’t want me to be known for modeling - or art…” he added, schooling his face neutral and apathetic. Sypha scowled, huffing.

“But you should be able to do what you want. Especially in the summer. It’s your life!” Sypha interjected, to which Adrian laughed too harshly. Too coldly. Too uncomfortably. And then he fell silent too. 

“Is it?” he muttered, running his tongue over his teeth, thinking. Trevor met eyes with Sypha, and they communicated in concerned and empathetic looks for a moment. Sypha reached for Adrian’s hand again, taking in her little grasp.

“Well, I think it’s great. I’m really happy for you. It’s so cool that Armani asked you to model for him. And I think the concert will be great too,” she soothed, calming and lovely in her way. Adrian’s icy expression wore off.

“Thanks, Sypha.”

A pause.

“You’re welcome. Let’s get back to the game…Trevor, truth, or dare?” She turned, leaning on the table and smiling at him, trying to get him to lighten the mood. Trevor clicked his tongue.

“Truth.”

“What’s something you’ve never told me before?” Sypha asked, making a face. He laughed.

“Hmm… I’m probably gonna change my major next semester.”

“Oh! To what?” Sypha wondered.

“I don’t know yet. I’m considering some different ones. I thought maybe business. Or sports management. That’s what my advisor recommended. We’ll see. I need to pick a career first. Which is hard considering that I don’t even know what I want to do with my life.” Trevor admitted, obviously lost in his purpose and confused about his desires. Only Adrian’s questions and advice had caused Trevor to begin to think about his future seriously. 

“It’s good that you’re giving it thought,” Sypha acknowledged, “I hope you find something.”

“Why don’t you do some job shadowing, Trevor?” Adrian suggested, “Or take one of those online quizzes to give you career suggestions?”

“Aren’t those stupid?” Trevor scoffed. Adrian shook his head.

“Not necessarily. There are some legitimate ones.”

“It’s such a big question, though. How am I supposed to know what I want to do every day for the rest of my life? I’m only twenty. I don’t even know what I want to eat for dinner, or what movie to rent from Redbox. Let alone my career... You guys are lucky you have plans, at least.”

Adrian looked at the door, and after a while, back to Trevor.

“I’ll try to help you get started, Trevor. Do you prefer to do things hands-on, or not? Do you like math? Do you want to work with people?” He urged Trevor.

“Uh- I like hands-on stuff. I don’t like math. But I don’t hate it either. And I usually don’t get along with people, so that’s probably not a good idea.”

Adrian and Sypha thought for a moment.

“Maybe an engineer? Or a mechanic?” Adrian suggested. Trevor looked at him for a while, thinking. He pursed his lips.

“That actually sounds pretty good. Better than business, definitely... Yeah, you know what, that sounds interesting. I would like working with cars, and not sitting on my ass all day.”

_I've had no idea what I’ve wanted to do forever, and here he gives me a great suggestion on the first try? And it actually seems like something I would really want to do?_

“There you go. It’s a start. You should do some job shadowing, seriously. Or just go to a mechanic in town and ask if you can watch him for a day, see what the job is like. People do that pretty often.”

_How is he so smart about everything? Shit, he’s younger than me and his life is so much more put together than mine._

“...Okay. I can do that.”

“That would be mechanical engineering, right? A science degree,” Sypha added, and Adrian nodded.

“I’ll look into it,” Trevor decided, and they moved back to the game. They played for a while, teasing and prodding each other a little, laughing and simply enjoying each other’s company.

“Adrian, your turn.”

“Truth,” Adrian said, not in the mood for dares. He was playing with a long strand of curly blonde hair, twirling it absentmindedly. Trevor smirked.

“Why do you keep your hair so long? I’ve never seen a guy with hair that long in my life.” Trevor watched as he stopped twirling it and let fall from his fingers. Mirth twinkled in his eyes as he briefly looked to Trevor.

“To piss off my Dad a bit,” he chuckled slowly, but then he shook his head, “I’m kidding. I usually would have gotten a cut by now but I’m keeping it long for the shoot this summer. Armani said he wanted it to be long.” _Is he really kidding?_

“Interesting…” Sypha muttered, pulling her legs up on the chair and relaxing backwards.

“Trevor, Truth or dare?” Adrian asked.

“Dare.”

“I dare you to… flirt with the librarian at the front desk. And you have to say ‘that’s rad’ and ‘awesome sauce’ at least once in the conversation,” he challenged, smirking. Trevor groaned.

“Ah, no. Come on. I see her all the time. And what if she said yes?”

“Take her on a date!” Sypha laughed.

“She’s like 65 years old! No way… Your turn, Sypha.” Trevor took her in, looking at her for a while as she thought. She was colorful and sparkly, both inside and out. Pink lipgloss, big blue earrings, and white fuzzy sweater. She pursed her cute lips.

“Dare.” 

“Ah, I dare you to- go the last person you were texting with and tell them that you think they’re sexy. Whoever it is,” he proposed, raising his eyebrows. Sypha laughed, pulling out her phone, this time with her ‘Women Belong In The House and the Senate’ case.

“Okay, sure. If it’s my grandpa I’m going to have to have some serious explaining to do,” she snorted, and the boys laughed. She smirked as she typed it out and pressed send. Suddenly Adrian’s phone dinged. 

[ New Message ]

Sypha (3:32 pm) I think you’re sexy!! (¬‿¬)

Adrian laughed.

_They text each other? Not in the group chat? When did that start?_

“Thanks, Sypha,” he giggled, “I know this is legit.” He was being sarcastic, but she protested.

“It is! You’re super sexy. For real,” she smiled, and then she winked. Adrian blushed, eyebrows drawn up.

_She winked! She fucking winked. Shit. I’m done for, aren’t I? Are they already sleeping together?_

“Trevor, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Do you watch porn?” She asked, leaning forward and making a face. Trevor rolled his eyes.

“Yeah of course. I’m a guy,” he droned, “All guys watch porn of some sort.” 

“Adrian?”

“Truth,” he chose, relaxing back in his chair. Trevor raised his eyebrows, an idea coming to him.

“How many people have you slept with?” Trevor asked, interested. Adrian looked at him for a moment, contemplating, it seemed, expression blank. His gaze drifted.

“...Zero.”

There was a pause before Trevor started laughing incredulously. 

“What?” He snorted, “No seriously, you have to answer the question.” 

Adrian shifted in his seat, looking at him and then looking away, a bit of discomfort in his eyes.

“Seriously, zero,” he confirmed, no emotion in his voice. _No way._

“You’re not joking?” Trevor whispered, and Sypha smacked his arm from across the table. _What the fuck? Is he serious?_

“Trevor, stop it.” She chided, looking to Adrian with a furrowed brow. 

“Ah, no. I’m not joking... It just- hasn’t happened yet,” Adrian explained, a little painfully. He bit his lip. Trevor leaned back, shocked.

“You’re a virgin? You? A literal model. Who,” he gestured, to his beautiful face, “looks like that. You’re a virgin.” 

Sypha glared at him while Adrian blushed.

“Trevor, stop. It’s not that big of a deal, don’t make him feel weird. He’s only 19. I’m sorry,” she apologized for Trevor, touching Adrian’s arm. The blonde stared at the table, playing his nails. Trevor exhaled.

“Sorry, Adrian, I’m not trying to be mean or anything, I’m just… shocked. Wouldn’t have expected that.” _Really wouldn’t have expected that. This guy is not what I thought he was. Is all the confidence and sarcasm an act? He really doesn’t have any friends, does he?_

Adrian pursed his lips and shrugged, picking up his pen and tapping his pen against the table. He said nothing. _I have to ask._

“Why haven’t you had sex? I’m sure you’ve had opportunities before,” Trevor assumed boldly, and then Adrian did something very unexpected. He smirked, a bit of a twinkle in his eye and an indecipherable expression on his face. 

“One question only. Sorry. That’s the game.”

_Is he lying? What the hell? Is it an act?_

“Sypha. Truth or dare?” Adrian turned to her.

“Truth.”

“If you could go on vacation anywhere, where would you go? Price not being a factor,” Adrian asked, and Sypha thought, raising her eyebrows.

“Paris! I’ve never been. Ever since I was little, I’ve wanted to see the Louvre, Versailles, the Eiffel Tower, and Malmaison… and to just sit on the street at a cafe and eat a croissant. It’s my dream to go there,” she explained, resting her head on her hand, blue dangly earrings twinkling and catching the light. Adrian nodded.

“Paris is beautiful. Truly. But, what’s Malmaison?” He scowled.

“Napoleon’s wife Jospehine’s Chateau in the country outside the city. She purchased the mansion in 1799. It’s historic. After Napoleon divorced her in 1809 she stayed at Malmaison for many years. Many famous people at the time came in and out of that mansion. Also, I would love to go on a French Revolution Tour of the city, and see all the places that I’ve read about. The Hôtel des Invalides, Bastille, Notre Dame, the Jardin des Tuileries, the Palais du Luxembourg, and the Le Procope Cafe. did you know that not only Napoleon frequented that cafe, but also Voltaire, Rousseau, and Benjamin Franklin?” Sypha went on a history rant of her own, full of passionate fervor and excitement for French history. She almost bounced up and down in her chair as she rattled off the places she wanted to see. Trevor and Adrian exchanged a knowing glance before looking back to her, coming down off her history high. She exhaled, and then she laughed.

“I know, I know. I’m a history nerd. You don’t need to look at me like I grew a second head.” Trevor and Adrian tried to keep straight faces.

“Paris is very interesting. I’m sure you’ll visit France soon,” Adrian smiled assuredly. 

“I’ve never even left the US,” Trevor mumbled, annoyed that he had never experienced the travels his friends have. 

“I’m sorry. Where do you want to go, Trevor?” Sypha asked, looking across the table towards him.

“Anywhere. I’d like to see different places. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to afford it… but I want to see France too. I’m half French. And I want to go to Italy and Portugal. I’ve seen some amazing travel videos on Youtube about Portugal and Spain.”

“What’s the other half of your heritage, Trevor?” Adrian asked, curious.

“Southern Italian. From the Campania area, I believe. Yeah, I had a grandma out there. On the Amalfi Coast. She died when I was a kid,” he explained, thinking of his old grandmother and her love of making pasta and spending time with her family. She was a kind woman.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have any family left, do you?” Adrian asked, very quietly. Trevor turned, nostrils flaring intuitively at having a Tepes ask about his dead family. But when he saw Adrian’s empathetic and beautiful eyes, full of glittering gold compassion and kindness, he relented, noticeably relaxing his body. He broke the stare, gritting his teeth.

“None.”

Sypha sighed.

“But you’ll have a family again. You can make your own. With people who love you just as deeply,” she offered a smile, sad but sweet. Trevor just looked at her, thinking. Any words he had to say died on his lips. She leaned closer.

“And you’re not alone in the world. You have us. And we care about you. So you’re not alone. Right, Adrian?” She asked, turning to get Adrian’s support. He nodded, serious.

“Right.”

Trevor met Adrian’s eyes again, blue clashing with gold. There was something very deep, and very, very new in his expression. Soft brow and gentle smile but burning intensity in his gaze. Sypha’s was similar, but of course more light than Adrian’s, more optimistic. Trevor stilled, caught in the intensity of the emotion between the three of them in that moment. Time stilled too, pausing if only for a moment so Trevor felt the palpable emotion between him and his friends in the deepest recesses of his heart. 

_Not alone in the world? Me?_

_Not alone?_

“Fuck, we’re just a bunch of misfits, aren’t we?”

* * *

**A/N: Please review!**

**Sorry for the late update, but there is crazy stuff going on in my state. The US is in a crisis right now. Two, actually, so I'm a little distracted by that.**


	10. Flights and Preparations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vlad and Adrian talk on their flight to Tokyo. Sypha agrees to accompany Adrian to an event.

(If you want to see the fashion/places yourself)

Sypha’s Gifted Clothing

Coat: [ https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/max-mara-messi-belted-wool-coat/product/0400011853083?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306646240&R=8332564724019&P_name=Max+Mara&N=306646240&bmUID=n88lq3P ](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/max-mara-messi-belted-wool-coat/product/0400011853083?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306646240&R=8332564724019&P_name=Max+Mara&N=306646240&bmUID=n88lq3P)

Dress:[ https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/lela-rose-guipure-lace-fit-flare-dress/product/0400012426233?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306418059&R=191116238217&P_name=Lela+Rose&N=306418059+4294904359+4294879829+4294880659+4294901653+4294904413+4294881071+4294903519+4294904786+4294878664&bmUID=n88fjSW ](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/lela-rose-guipure-lace-fit-flare-dress/product/0400012426233?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306418059&R=191116238217&P_name=Lela+Rose&N=306418059+4294904359+4294879829+4294880659+4294901653+4294904413+4294881071+4294903519+4294904786+4294878664&bmUID=n88fjSW)

Heels:[ https://www.prada.com/us/en/women/shoes/pumps/products.patent_leather_pumps.1I834I_069_F0442_F_100.html ](https://www.prada.com/us/en/women/shoes/pumps/products.patent_leather_pumps.1I834I_069_F0442_F_100.html)

Prada Bag: [ https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/prada-daino-leather-tote/product/0400011904326?clickType=PRODUCT_RECOMMENDATIONS ](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/prada-daino-leather-tote/product/0400011904326?clickType=PRODUCT_RECOMMENDATIONS)

Clutch: [ https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/loeffler-randall-tab-metallic-leather-clutch/product/0400012240031?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306623854&R=884141645937&P_name=Loeffler+Randall&N=306623854&bmUID=n88lMlr ](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/loeffler-randall-tab-metallic-leather-clutch/product/0400012240031?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306623854&R=884141645937&P_name=Loeffler+Randall&N=306623854&bmUID=n88lMlr)

Prada boots: [ https://www.prada.com/us/en/women/shoes/ankle_boots_and_boots/products.leather_boots.1W023M_008_F0002_F_085.html ](https://www.prada.com/us/en/women/shoes/ankle_boots_and_boots/products.leather_boots.1W023M_008_F0002_F_085.html)

Alice and Olivia Dress: [ https://www.aliceandolivia.com/tamara-dress-with-tie-neck-CC003P68531P674.html ](https://www.aliceandolivia.com/tamara-dress-with-tie-neck-CC003P68531P674.html)

Earrings: [ https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/kate-spade-new-york-goldtone-cubic-zirconia-floral-drop-earrings/product/0400012030026?R=767883666807&P_name=Kate+Spade+New+York&Ntt=flower+earrings&N=0&FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306418141 ](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/kate-spade-new-york-goldtone-cubic-zirconia-floral-drop-earrings/product/0400012030026?R=767883666807&P_name=Kate+Spade+New+York&Ntt=flower+earrings&N=0&FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306418141)

* * *

First Class Cabin on British Airways: [ https://www.scmp.com/magazines/style/travel-food/article/3001249/look-inside-british-airways-brand-new-first-class ](https://www.scmp.com/magazines/style/travel-food/article/3001249/look-inside-british-airways-brand-new-first-class)

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Flights and Preparations**

That Saturday, Adrian was seated in the first-class section of a plane with his father by nine am. The first-class cabin consisted of a few rows of semi-private seats, arranged in singles and doubles. Dark grey panels and curtains kept the first-class calm and in seclusion from the rest of the plane. The seats were large, with dark brown leather and a light beige interior. Dim light came up from the bottom of the seats, gently illuminating the cabin. Adrian sat next to his father, who was busy drinking coffee and answering emails on his tablet. Adrian said nothing to disturb him. Instead, he donned a satin sleeping mask and slid backward in his seat. He rested for the first portion of the flight, putting in his earbuds and trying to get some sleep. A few hours later, he woke up, and then lunch was served. After looking over the menu, Adrian ordered the Lobster Tortelli for his starter. Vlad ordered a salad. The conversation had not yet begun, and Adrian couldn’t help but wonder what was in store. He always waited for his father to speak first, gauging his mood, his temper. And, of course, Vlad did speak up.

“How have you been doing lately, son?” He asked calmly, pouring vinaigrette on his salad. Adrian decided he sounded relatively friendly, if not tired as well. 

“I’ve been doing pretty well. I’m busy, you know, with my classes. My major is a lot of work, but I like it... Um, my coding class is going well. I’m a project leader for the first assignment.” That caught Vlad’s attention. He looked to his son. 

“Project leader? That’s good. Very good. What’s the first project?” He asked, taking a bite of his salad. Adrian shifted in his seat.

“Coding a website. Using Python and Pyramid.”

“Hm. How’s it going?” 

“It’s fine. Python isn’t hard, and we’re doing well.” Adrian took a bite of tortellini. He hoped he wouldn’t say too much. He didn’t want his father knowing he was friends with a Belmont yet. That could lead to some very uncomfortable results.

“What have you been doing?” Adrian asked in return, looking at his father. Dracula spoke for a while about proceedings at the company and places he was going to travel. Nothing too confidential, given they were on an airplane. He listed the places he wanted Adrian to accompany him to.

“We’ll be conferencing with distributors-” Dracula stopped talking when a flight attendant appeared beside them, menus in hand.

“I’m sorry for interrupting. What can I get you for the main course, gentleman?” She asked, a perfect service-industry smile on her face, “Our chefs' selections for today include aged Herefordshire beef with caramelized caper butter, roasted vine-tomatoes, wild mushrooms, and pine nuts. A Pan-fried stone bass with grilled fennel, and saffron beurre blanc. And Dingley Dell pork cutlet with sage gravy, apple and Somerset cider. Or, for a vegetarian option, crispy spring vegetable gnocchi with creamy tomato sauce and Thai basil.” 

“I’ll try the Herefordshire beef,” Vlad decided, setting down his reading glasses on the table and rubbing his eye. Adrian wondered if he had been up late the night previous. He had been quite absent. When Adrian came home, he played with the dog and talked with his mother. They ordered Italian takeout and ate at the kitchen table. Vlad had only stopped by to grab a plate, and then he had quickly excused himself and gone to his office to eat, apparently working on something important. Adrian and his mother were both a bit annoyed with him but they hadn’t said anything, opting to play scrabble and watch a movie and pretend like it didn’t bother them. He hadn’t said what he was working on the night before, and Adrian knew better than to ask. He could strike a nerve he had no intention to strike.

“Vegetable gnocchi for me, please.” Adrian smiled shallowly. The attendant nodded. She came back in a minute with a bottle of chilled champagne. 

“Would you like some Dom Perignon, sir?” Vlad nodded and she filled his glass with the luxury champagne. 

“Do you want some, Adrian? You can have some if you want,” Vlad offered, looking over his shoulder. Adrian shrugged. He wasn’t twenty-one, but if Dracula said he could, no one was going to challenge the man. 

“Sure,” he answered, watching as the flight attendant filled his glass. He took a sip. The champagne was delicious, bubbly and smooth. Tangy and tart. When Vlad didn’t say anything more, Adrian took out his phone, checking his Instagram and text messages. 

Sypha (8:58 am) Have a safe flight!! I hope you have a good trip :)

Adrian (11:59 am) Thanks! I’ll text you when I get to the city. I can send some pictures or videos if you want. I might not see much beyond a hotel room and a CTC store, but I’ll try to send something interesting.

Sypha (12:00 pm) Yeah! I’d love that

Sypha (12:00 pm) Wait - how can you text me from the plane?? You pay for the wifi I guess? I’ve never done that.

“Adrian?” Dracula called out.

“Mm?” Was the only answer he got, his son’s attention clearly on his phone. 

Adrian (12:01 pm) Yeah, I have wifi. What are you doing today?

Sypha (12:02 pm) yoga in the studio, laundry, homework, hanging out with trevor

Sypha (12:02 pm) i think trevor wants to watch a movie - it’s called ghost rider or something? Idk it has nic cage in it.

Adrian chuckled at the memory of Nicholas Cage turning into a flaming skeleton who drives a motorcycle. _Of course Trevor would watch that garbage._

"You seem… distracted lately,” Vlad said out of nowhere.

“Do I?” Adrian asked, looking up from his phone for just a moment. He went back to typing out a text and Vlad tilted his head, growing impatient.

“You do. Adrian, you’re not listening to me.”

“Sorry, Dad. What is it?” He turned, putting down his phone, trying to focus fully on his father. He didn’t want to incur his anger just by being stupid and not paying attention.

“Is there something going on?” Vlad wondered. Adrian scowled and shook his head, trying to avoid a discussion he didn’t want to have. He schooled his face to be normal.

“Ah, no, not really. Everything is pretty normal right now.” His dad raised an eyebrow.

“Alright.” Vlad’s phone chimed and he checked an email, so Adrian went back to his phone again. 

Adrian (12:05 pm) That’s hilarious. Enjoy.

Sypha (12:06 pm) is it really bad? If it’s bad i’m not going to let treffi make me watch the whole thing

Adrian (12:06 pm) I don’t really know. I only saw the trailer. Not my kind of movie.

“Who are you texting?” Vlad asked suddenly.

Adrian paused, slightly uncomfortable. He knew it was virtually impossible to keep things from his father, if his father wanted to know them, but he wasn’t quite ready to delve into that subject with him. He was a private young man in many respects.

“Ah-”

“Tell me,” Dracula ordered, voice steady and calm. Adrian exhaled.

“...This girl that I met when I was volunteering. We have CP class together.” Dracula paused and then he smiled knowingly, tension relieved.

“I thought so. I thought it was probably a girl that was distracting you,” he commented, grinning at his young son. Adrian scowled. 

“What? How would you even know that?” He huffed.

“I just had a feeling. You’re never usually so absorbed in your phone. And you stay in Rochester for longer stretches instead of going home… So, who is she?” He took a drink of champagne, watching his son. 

“Her name’s Sypha. She’s - a friend. We have a class together, and I help her with coding.” He was reluctant to reveal everything, but Adrian knew his father would draw it all out of him if he wanted to.

“Friend? Or, girlfriend?” Vlad challenged, smirking. Adrian took a large sip of champagne, hoping it would give him courage.

“Friend.” 

“But, soon-to-be girlfriend?” Dracula pushed, teasing him a little. Adrian looked away. 

“I don’t know about that.” He didn’t really know where they stood at all. She seemed to have an active dating life of her own, although she was currently single.

“Is she cute?” 

“Uh - yeah, she is.” Adrian admitted awkwardly. She was very, very cute.

“Do you like her?” 

Well, that was a loaded question. Adrian supposed there was little reason to dodge the question. Not with his father. Vlad put on his reading glasses again.

“… yeah, I like her. I think she’s great. She’s sweet and funny.” His dad nodded.

“That’s good. Does she have an Instagram?” Vlad asked, raising a dark brow. Adrian fidgeted, quiet for a while. Vlad inclined his head, peering at him over the top of his glasses.

“Does she have social media?” He pressed. Adrian let out a breath.

“Yeah. She does. Why?”

“Let me see it,” Vlad insisted, extending a hand expectantly. Adrian withheld another sigh. He reluctantly opened up Instagram and went to her profile, handing it over to his father. He wasn’t keen on having his father pass judgment on her on the basis of a social media profile. Not that hers was bad, but still. Dracula adjusted his reading glasses and looked over her pictures and bio. 

“I want to see who this girl is. If she can capture your attention, son, she must be pretty impressive. You never talk about girls.”

{ Sypha Belnades }

wallachia university ‘23 Following: 621

history & global peace and justice studies Followers: 896

yoga lover, activist, intersectional feminist

cali born and raised

“You are braver than you believe, 

stronger than you seem and 

smarter than you think.”

Her profile was bright and colorful, filled with pictures of her meditating and doing yoga. There were lots of photos with friends. She had some up of her environmental activism, the women’s march, and from being in the Peace Corps. Others were casual selfies and bikini photos on the beaches of California.

“She is cute. Very cute,” Vlad commented quietly.

“Dad!” Embarrassment swept over Adrian, and Vlad chuckled at that. 

“What? She’s a beautiful girl. What’s she like in person?” He asked. Adrian took another sip of his drink. He was going to need to in order to get through this conversation.

“She’s kind and really interesting. Accomplished, clever, dedicated. Nice…”

Vlad handed the phone back to his son.

“I will say, we do have similar taste in women, don’t we?” He referenced Lisa and her many similarities with Sypha. Vlad took off his glasses and looked over at his son again.

“Ugh, Dad. Please don’t say that. Seriously,” Adrian protested in an angry whisper.

“It’s not bad to like a girl that shares the same personality and qualities as your mother. That’s complimentary. Your mother is an amazing woman.” Adrian said nothing, trying not to die of his own embarrassment. But that wasn’t going to stop his father.

“So, how’s it going with her?” Vlad asked, trying to draw it out of him.

“I told you, we’re just friends. We hang out, usually with other people around.”

“But you’d like something more? You want to take her out?” Vlad asked. Adrian closed his eyes, embarrassed at the admission.

“Yes.”

“Is she single?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’ve been friends with her for how long now?”

“Over a month.”

“You see her quite often? And she’s friendly?”

“Yes.”

“And… she’s definitely straight, right?”

“Um- yeah.”

“Well. You should go for it. I’d say she’s definitely thought about you by now,” Vlad muttered in total confidence. Adrian scowled in confusion, turning to face his father.

“Thought about me?” He asked.

“Thought about sleeping with you.” He said it as if they were discussing the weather. Adrian’s eyes went wide, brows arching upwards.

“What?!” He whisper-yelled. Vlad looked at his son calmly, champagne glass in hand.

“What? She's cute and single. You’re a handsome young man, very smart, and sophisticated. She’s definitely thought about it.” Vlad claimed, sipping his drink. Adrian scowled, open-mouthed, pondering the concept for a moment. _Has she really?_

“Now is the time to act. Be confident. Tell her what you want. Ask her out, flirt with her. This is a very crucial time... You don’t want to get stuck in the friend-zone,” Vlad explained, ever the wise older father. Adrian looked at him in confusion and shock. He was never used to Vlad giving him advice about dating. They seldom discussed their personal lives anymore.

“What?” He repeated. 

“Do you want me to tell you what women want? I will. Spend some time with her, okay? One-on-one. Compliment her. Ask her about something she cares about. Activism, right? Or meditation? Whatever she likes. Get her talking, and listen. Really listen. Do not sit there with a blank stare, imagining what she looks like naked. Actually listen to her,” he instructed.

Adrian was mortified by the discussion, grimacing in his airplane seat.

“Where is this coming from?” He almost wheezed.

“Your mother. She’s told me. It’s something that women really care about. Don’t speak over her, or keep the conversation focused on yourself. Show genuine interest in something she cares about. And when the time is right, and she’s flirting with you, just be bold. Go right in and kiss her.” Vlad seemed very sure of the idea, urging him on. Adrian said nothing, preferring to stare at his father in blank shock.

“You think I’m kidding? I’m not. Just be confident. Women like that.”

Adrian slumped back in his chair, staring at the seat ahead of him. The flight attendants served their main course on white tablecloths. Adrian thought about what his father had said. When they were finished serving the meal, he spoke up.

“Are you sure? What if that’s - too eager? Or pushy, or something? You don’t think that would scare her?” He asked, very quietly. His father shook his head while he cut his fillet.

“No, no. It’s good to be bold. Women like confidence. They’re attracted to it. Obviously, make sure she’s giving you positive signals beforehand. Flirting with you. And don’t do it in public or anything like that. Invite her over for - what do you kids call it?” He took a bite of meat and said nothing for a moment, searching for the term.

“Netflix and Chill? Isn’t that what it’s called?” He mumbled.

Adrian practically spat out his gnocchi. He whipped around to face his father, his eyes a bit panicked and extremely mortified. He couldn’t believe this discussion was actually occurring.

“Dad, do you have any idea what that means?” He whispered. Vlad scowled, pursing his lips and thinking.

“It’s - it means, you know - a hookup. Casual sex,” Adrian explained in a pained whisper.

“Mhm. Well, why not? If you both like each other,” Vlad encouraged, returning to his meal calmly, taking a bite.

“Oh my God. If I tell mom that you’re telling me to do Netflix and Chill, do you think she’d be happy with that?” He whisper-yelled again, trying to not break out in laughter. Vlad chuckled lowly.

“She would tell you to go for it, son. No time like the present. Things aren’t as formal as they used to be… You’re an adult. Enjoy yourself.” He shrugged, taking another bite.

“Do you and mom just sit around in the house when I’m gone, making fun of me because I don’t know how to get girls?” He wondered, pushing around his gnocchi in the bowl.

“No,” Vlad sighed comically, “Of course not.”

"You do,” Adrian grunted quietly.

“It’s ridiculous for you to think you can’t get a girlfriend, son. Be brave, just ask her out. I bet you she would say yes. Why wouldn’t she?”

Adrian thought about it for a moment. He couldn’t come up with a counterpoint, really, except to say that everyone usually turned him down. Unless they were crazy or just there for his money. And that was too embarrassing to admit. He sighed through his nose.

“Okay. I’ll ask her out,” he obliged, definitive. Vlad smiled briefly.

“Good. Good. Now, let's get back to our discussion. So the distribution chain-” he went back to discussing the company without a second thought. Adrian tried to listen but suddenly he felt nervous. He wasn’t sure if she would say yes. In fact, he doubted she would. If only because he usually had such terrible luck with dating in general. 

* * *

By the next Thursday, Adrian still hadn’t asked Sypha out. They had talked after class the Monday he got back but Trevor was there and so Adrian couldn’t work up the nerve. It was too hard when Trevor was nearby, and he felt uncomfortable asking to talk to her in private. Adrian was sitting in the lounge with Trevor and Sypha when his mom called. He put down his pencil - he had been drawing for an hour - and reached to answer the call. He put it on speakerphone and kept drawing.

“Hi, Mom,” Adrian answered.

“Hey, honey. How are you?”

“I’m fine. I’m drawing for a bit before my next class.”

“Oh, good, good,” she sounded like she was in a car, “I’m calling because I need to ask you something. Who’s your plus one for the Hamilton’s wedding this weekend? You’re supposed to bring a date, remember? Did you find one?”

Adrian’s eyes went wide, his gaze set on Sypha.

“..yeah. Yeah, I did,” he fibbed, raised his eyebrows expectantly at Sypha. She made a confused face, and Adrian gestured to say he wanted her to go along with it.

“Great! Who is it?”

“Her name is Sypha Belnades. She’s a friend from my computer class... What time do we need to be in the city?”

“It’s a morning wedding. The service is at ten at St. Patrick’s. The brunch reception starts at 12 at Cipriani, and if you want, you can just come to that. They wouldn’t notice you missing from the wedding itself... The bride says she doesn’t like dark colors, so don’t wear black, please. And make sure your date wears a nice dress, go ahead and buy one if she wants, okay? I’ll meet you at the reception, dear,” she explained in a British accent.

“Alright, sounds good. See you then, Mom,” Adrian smiled, hanging up. He exhaled, tilting his head.

“Can you make it? If not, I can just say that you fell through, no problem. I can say you got sick and couldn’t make it last minute.”

Sypha furrowed her brows and shrugged.

“Ah- I - I suppose I could come. But I don’t have anything to wear- Whose wedding are we going to?” Sypha asked, stuttering. 

“My mom’s doctor friend is marrying an investment banker. It’s going to be kinda lavish. I’ll get you an outfit for the wedding, don’t worry. And the flights of course. What are your sizes?” 

Sypha startled, giggling at the hastiness of it all.

“Um, four for clothing. Six for shoes… I can just return everything after the wedding right? Otherwise, I would feel bad.”

“The shoes, no. Keep them. But that’s fine. It’ll be my thank you for coming basically by force. Sorry about that.”

“Um, okay! Sure.” She smiled, taken aback. _They’re going on a trip together?_ Adrian went on his phone, and Trevor watched him, teeth clenched, pretending like jealousy wasn’t flaring through his veins.

“I got us a morning flight. We can come back the next day, I’m sure you probably have to study, so we could come back in the morning or the middle of the day. It’s a short flight.” _That was quick._

“The next day? Where would we stay?”

“Oh, we have an apartment in the city. We have an extra bedroom. Plenty of space.” _What kind of New York apartment has plenty of space and an extra bedroom? Another penthouse, perhaps?_

“But, I thought your family lived in a house outside of the city?” She scowled, confused.

“Oh, we do. But we have a place in the city also. My dad bought it for my mom about ten years ago. She usually stays there in between shifts at the hospital. Occasionally we’ll all stay there, after late-night events and such. It’s nice to have a place to stay in the city if you’re exhausted. When I was in high school, I would stay there during the weeknights and stay at the house on the weekends... My parents are going to go to the house after the wedding, so we can stay at the apartment ourselves. It’ll be nice. We can go to a nice restaurant in the city or a bar. Whatever you want, okay? It’s on me. Just enjoy yourself,” he offered, smiling handsomely like it was totally normal. Sypha’s blue eyes were blown wide, and she let out nervous laughter. _They’re going to be alone in his fancy New York penthouse. Fuck._

“Okay. Thank you! We don’t need to go anywhere, special, though. It’s the wedding that I’m nervous about. I - I don’t really know how to act around rich people, Adrian. I’m not fancy. My grandpa’s a yoga instructor. I don’t know what fork is what, or how to talk to those people.”

“God, please don’t get nervous about that. You don’t really have to talk much at all. I mean, I understand what you’re saying, but I’m right there next to you if you have any questions. And you don’t need to speak differently to these people, just be polite and don’t swear excessively, that’s all. It’s nothing serious.”

“Alright. I just - I wouldn’t want to embarrass you or anything.”

“You won’t! I promise. Just be yourself and stay next to me, it’ll be fun. Great food, and cake, probably. Champagne. You can meet my parents... They’ll like you, I promise.” _He’s seriously taking her to socialize with Dracula fucking Tepes._

“Really?” Sypha asked, chewing on her nail. She was slightly scared to meet Dracula.

“Promise. I’ll come by and pick you up from school in the morning. Our flight leaves at 9:15, okay?”

“Are we flying first class?” Sypha asked suddenly, excitement in her voice.

“Yes. You can put your seat back if you’re tired and take a nap.” _Argh. Fuck him and his gold bars. She’s going to love that. Getting all that special treatment._

“Wow. Okay! Thanks so much for the flight, Adrian.” She knew he was dirty rich, but it still meant something.

“It’s not a problem. It’s really not expensive, or exciting, actually, because it’s just a quick domestic flight. Sorry,” he laughed, damping her enthusiasm. She pursed her lips and nodded.

“Right.”

“You’ll see some real luxury when we get into the city, promise.”

“Oh, I bet. Where is the wedding?”

“It’s on Wall Street, in this building that used to be a bank, I think. Now people use it for weddings. Es un lugar con clase. No sé por qué eligieron un lugar tan elegante para una boda de brunch, pero ... eso es gente rica para ti (It’s a classy place. I don't know why they picked such a fancy place for a brunch wedding, but... that's rich people for you).”

Sypha laughed. _What are they saying? Damn it! Why didn’t I take Spanish in high school?_

“Dices eso como si no fueras una persona rica también (You say that like you’re not a rich person, too). Tu español es muy bueno, por cierto (Your Spanish is really good by the way).”

Adrian blushed a little. Trevor sighed in exasperation. He had been looking between them in confusion for a minute.

“Can you speak English when we’re hanging out? I don’t speak Spanish,” Trevor groaned, sounding less than enthused by their conversation. Sypha looked at him.

“Right. Sorry, we’ll speak English. What are you working on, Trevor?” She shifted the focus back to Trevor, realizing that they had been ignoring him for a while. He shifted in his seat, trying to let his jealousy go. He tried to force himself not to act upset.

“I’m working on this paper for my film class. It’s about this director, uh… Wong Kar Wai?” Trevor explained. Adrian looked up from his phone.

“Oh, I love his work! His films are so intriguing. Did you see _In the Mood for Love_ or _2046?_ ” He asked, tucking a long strand of blonde hair behind his ear, revealing a pretty golden earring. Trevor looked up at his happy, interested expression and felt something deep inside him drop. But not in the bad way that he was used to. Adrian was poised over the table, gorgeous light blonde hair falling over his shoulders and framing his face. There was a small smile on his face, golden eyes glimmering with attentiveness. He looked so elegant, so lithe, so effortlessly beautiful, that Trevor couldn’t deny to himself there was a part of him that wanted to lean over the table, grab him by the back of the head, and kiss him so deeply he forgot about movies and Chinese directors all-together. 

“Ah - yeah. We - watched them in class.”

“They’re great, aren’t they?” Adrian almost sighed, and Trevor could tell he was being himself for once, relaxing and speaking without much thought. It was endearing. Trevor couldn’t take his eyes off the beautiful man.

“Mm. They’re alright. But they’re kinda weird. I thought they were hard to understand.”

“That’s because they’re in Chinese,” Sypha giggled, teasing him. Trevor rolled his eyes.

“I read the subtitles. Jesus. But still, they’re a bit confusing. The actress is really hot though. In the first one.”

“In the Mood for Love. Her name is Maggie Cheung. She’s very hot, and a really good actress too,” Adrian agreed with him, nodding. He began tucking his things back away in his bag, golden hair falling over his shoulder as he did so. Trevor watched him, feeling the urge to run his fingers through it.

“Are you going to class?” Sypha asked, sitting up.

“Yes. I have Chemistry. I’ll see you guys later.” He stood up and Sypha kissed him on both cheeks, Spanish style. Adrian smiled and then waved at Trevor. _He’s so pretty. Damn._ Trevor waved back, a barely-there smile on his face. He kept studying with Sypha for a while, but he was quite distracted by his own jealousy. Trevor wished he could go on that trip. He thought about them going together for a long while, imagining what might happen.

And for a moment he really didn’t know who he was more jealous of. 

* * *

The next day Sypha found a large box from Saks Fifth Avenue and another from Prada in the mailroom, waiting for her. She took them to her room and opened them when her roommate had left. She had no idea what Adrian had purchased for her. They had just arrived. Inside, there was a carefully packaged light blue fit and flare dress with a lace overlay. 

“Beautiful.” For the wedding, she presumed. There was another dress, from Alica and Olivia, with an interesting multicolor pattern and matching scarf. The cut was asymmetric, and Sypha loved it. Next there was a pair of kate spade earrings that looked like flowers. The large item in the box was a belted neutral coat by Max Mara that felt quite luxurious. She looked at the price tag: $1,200. Sypha gasped. 

“Dios mío (Oh my god)!” She wished he wouldn’t have spent so much. Sypha wouldn’t spend that on clothes in a whole year. In the Prada box was a pair of coral pink high heels, a white tote bag, and knee-high black heeled boots. Everything was gorgeous, but Sypha felt too guilty to accept any of it. She couldn’t imagine the price of everything. It was too much to accept, surely. She took out her cell phone, sighing, and called Adrian.

“Hey, Adrian. I just got all the stuff you sent me - for the weekend. 

¿En serio? Esto se ve muy caro (Are you serious? This is all so expensive).” 

Adrian chuckled.

“No es nada. Por favor, disfruta los regalos. (It’s nothing. Please enjoy the gifts.) Do you like them? Does anything not fit?” He asked.

“It’s all beautiful. Me encanta la bolsa en particular (I love the bag in particular). But I can’t accept this, Adrian. It’s too expensive,” she protested again. She could almost hear Adrian shaking his head.

“Nonsense, you can keep all of it. El gusto es mio (It’s my pleasure)... But, if you really don’t want to keep it after the wedding, you can return it. That’s fine too. Just keep the boxes and the receipts.” She thought about the clothes, looking again at the blue dress.

“Es demasiado elegante para mi (It’s too elegant for me) I don’t know if I can pull it off!”

Adrian huffed at that.

“Of course you can. You’re very elegant. It will look great on you.”

“Thanks… Why did you get me two outfits?” She wondered.

“The Alice and Olivia dress is for Sunday. I thought it would go well with the Prada boots. I actually need help with something on Sunday, so I thought maybe you would stay in the city for the day and help me out? If you don’t have too much to do?” He asked.

“Oh, sure, what is it?”

“Shopping for my mom’s birthday present. I could really use your input.” Sypha thought about Adrian’s mother, Lisa, the renowned physician. Her mind drifted back to the family photos in Adrian’s apartment. The lovely Lisa Tepes standing beside her menacing husband, beautiful and blonde, a heavy diamond ring on her finger. 

“I’m not sure you do. I think, based on these presents, that you’re actually pretty talented at picking out gifts for women. Amazing at it, actually, because I love all of this.”

“I’m glad. But the issue is, my mom is difficult to shop for. She doesn’t like things that are too flashy, and she is particular about brands and stuff, I’ll explain later. She’s a unique case... So I would love your help shopping.” Sypha thought it was the least she could do. And it might be fun, anyway. 

“Alright, sure. Where do you want to shop for her?”

“I was thinking of going to Bergdorf's, or Barney’s.” Sypha scowled at that.

“Que son esos (what are those)… fancy department stores?”

“Yes,” Adrian chuckled.

“There, I already proved I’m not fancy. No wonder I need a new outfit. It’s still very ‘me’ though, so thanks. Muy colorido (very colorful). I’ll return them after… What does your mom want?” She wondered.

“A surprise. She has pretty much everything she would want, though, and she’s not one for over-buying, so this will be kind of difficult. I thought, maybe she’d like art, actually, so I called a few art galleries in Chelsea and asked if I could take a look. Would you mind doing that?” He asked, and Sypha jumped a little.

“Touring at art galleries in Chelsea? I’m down! That sounds great! Sorry for being annoying before. I’ll definitely come and help you find a gift for your mom.”

“No es un problema. (It’s not a problem.) Thanks, Sypha. I really appreciate it,” he sounded sincere, and it made Sypha smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said in goodbye.

“¡Hasta luego! (I’ll see you later!)” Sypha smiled, hanging up. Being friends with Adrian certainly had its perks. She had never been a date for someone’s wedding before. As she got out her little blue suitcase and began packing, she wondered what this meant. Being someone’s date to a wedding doesn’t mean romantic involvement, necessarily, but Sypha couldn’t help but wonder. They were getting closer. And they had been texting a lot. He had been giving her gifts, too. She wondered if he did want to date her. She wouldn't be surprised, given his positive reaction when she had kissed him at his apartment. He had blushed almost to the roots of his hair. But Sypha couldn’t imagine herself dating someone so rich. It would be such a shock. She didn’t know if she could go along with that lifestyle. Part of her was scared the rich would eat her, or something. She never imagined herself hanging out with such people. It was against her inner nature, he deepest instincts. Sypha was a socialist and activist. Once she spent a whole year living in poverty and building schools and teaching the underprivileged. Luxury was not something she knew. And she didn't really support it either. She complained about capitalism pretty often, and the massive wealth inequality it creates. Part of her hated that the rich had their own brands, their own cars, their own credit cards, even. Adrian's was thick black metal. It clanked when he set it down on the table. Even America, the land of the free, felt divided by class, in a way. The poor, the middle class, and the very small upper class which owned most of the wealth. Sypha didn't think that was really right. She wasn’t a supporter of huge companies or monopolization at all.

And so Adrian’s father was not someone Sypha would typically support. Not that she really believed the stories that he was evil, but she did believe he was greedy and profit-hungry. CTC made about $390 in profit on every phone they sold, which was a ridiculous markup. She didn’t even want to think about how much money Dracula actually made. Much more than what was fair. Much more than what any one man needed. And there was speculation about the company selling private information and collaborating with the government. There were human rights issues surrounding the company, too, and many of their products were made in China for cheap. Sypha didn’t support that. She believed in fair wages and modest prices. But she reminded herself that it wasn’t Adrian’s company. And issues with the company weren’t his fault. Still, she worried that if she dated him, she would clash with his family. Or simply feel out of place in such a wealthy environment. But she decided that this trip would be a good opportunity to see how the upper upper class really lived. All she had to go on was movies and of course, her experiences with Adrian. It was time to open her eyes. If nothing else, it would be interesting and she would be able to use the experience as a talking point for wealth inequality discussions in the future. Maybe she would even write a paper about it. After she finished packing, she went to bed, finding it hard to sleep with so much excitement in her veins.

**A/N: Please review! Or leave kudos!**

**If I make a mistake with the Spanish please let me know and I will fix it. I learned Spanish in high school but I'm not an expert.**

**What would you guys think if I did first-person inner-thoughts for Sypha and Adrian in italics? So far I only have Trevor but I'm considering doing the same thing - when obvious for Adrian and Sypha. As a reader- what do you feel about that?**


	11. The Wedding Reception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian and Sypha go to NYC for a wedding party.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: The Wedding Reception

Wedding Hall (Cipriani): https://www.wedding-spot.com/venue/5078/Cipriani-Wall-Street/

Adrian’s Items/Clothing  
Suitcase:https://us.louisvuitton.com/eng-us/products/horizon-55-damier-graphite-canvas-014191  
Backpack: https://us.louisvuitton.com/eng-us/products/michael-damier-graphite-000400  
Passport Cover: https://us.louisvuitton.com/eng-us/products/passport-cover-damier-graphite-canvas-nvprod470034v  
Suit: https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/giorgio-armani-virgin-wool-suit/product/0400012009354?R=8050536356616&P_name=Giorgio+Armani&Ntt=grey+suit&N=0  
Coat:https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/giorgio-armani-wool-cashmere-top-coat/product/0400011394896?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306418197&R=8050536027646&P_name=Giorgio+Armani&N=306418197+4294904608+4294901139&bmUID=n88wUhX  
Shirt:https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/brioni-herringbone-dress-shirt/product/0400011839086?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306630907&R=193664025967&P_name=Brioni&N=306630907+4294929609&bmUID=n88Bs5c

* * *

Early on Saturday morning, Sypha was standing ready at the curb, with her little blue suitcase in hand. When Adrian’s shiny black Rolls-Royce pulled up she buzzed with excitement, a smile creeping up on her face. She loved to travel, even if it wasn’t far. She just loved getting on an airplane or getting in a car. It was something about the idea of going somewhere, of seeing something new. It made her very happy. She was dressed head to toe in the designer clothes Adrian had sent her. She had opted to wear tights under the dress, which helped with the cold. Her gifted pink Prada heels stood out against the snow. Sypha felt a bit uncomfortable in them, as she was not accustomed to wearing heels at all. Getting ready that morning had felt like stepping into a stranger’s life, and the feeling only increased when she stepped into the smooth leather interior of the luxury SUV. 

“Good morning.” 

“Morning,” she greeted the driver, who had stepped out to help load her little suitcase in the back, “Thank you.”

She slid into the middle row of the SUV, sighing internally at the heated seats. _Ah, being rich does have its perks. I’m going to fall asleep, it’s so comfortable in here._

“Good morning, Adrian.” She offered him a gentle morning smile, and he returned it. 

“Good morning, Sypha. I’m sorry that it’s so early.” Adrian looked very expensive in head to toe Armani. He wore a sleek black topcoat over his grey sportcoat and lavender dress shirt underneath, grey trousers and black shiny shoes to complete the look. Sypha realized she had never seen him look messy, dirty, or in any way short of perfection. If his pretty hair was messy, he still somehow achieved the tousled model look instead of the frumpy homeless look that she and Trevor usually had in the mornings. _No wonder he’s a model._

“Oh, it’s no problem! I’m getting a free trip to New York City, I won’t complain. Thanks for inviting me. Sorry if I was reluctant before.”

“No worries. I appreciate you coming as my date.”

She nodded, shedding her coat and putting it next to her. Adrian was beside her in the middle row, his phone in hand. Sypha noticed a new case. _Another design?_

“You got a new phone case?” She wondered, leaning over to try and catch a glimpse. Adrian showed it to her.

“It’s another of my designs,” he explained, and she smiled at his rendering of a woman smoking a cigarette. It was black with white sketching, and very beautiful and unique. 

“That’s awesome. You could sell them. They’re so good.”

“Nah, that’s okay. I can make you one, though. If you’d like,” he offered, peering up at her under long eyelashes. She grinned.

“That would be wonderful.” _He’s so sweet._

A silence passed as they got onto the highway. Sypha was looking out the window, taking in the snowy scenery, but she could still feel Adrian’s wandering gaze. _He’s checking me out, isn’t he?_

“...You look really beautiful by the way,” he muttered quietly. _I guess that answers that._

“Thanks! Everything is so pretty. I love the heels, they’re so much fun.” They both looked down at her bright shoes as she flicked her toes back and forth. 

“Good. I thought you’d like them.”

The ride to the airport was peaceful. When they arrived, they got their tickets and headed to the gate after security. Because it was quite early, the boarding area was pretty peaceful and quiet still. Sypha took a minute to text Trevor.

Sypha (8:55 am) Morning, Treffi. Adrian and I are boarding our flight into the city. I’ll send pictures when we’re there, okay? Have a good day

Trevor (8:56 am) morning. I have an early practice today that’s why I’m up

Trevor (8:56 am) is prince pouty going to give you the first class treatment? Send me a pic of the champagne and caviar onboard

Sypha (8:57 am) trevor its 9am no we’re not drinking at this time of day wtf is wrong with you lol

Sypha (8:58 am) But in the city we’re going to a fancy wedding and then we’re going to some fancy stores to get presents for his mom. Wish you could come with but you have terrible table manners, that’s why he picked me.. Work on them while we’re gone, okay? Then next time you can be his date

Trevor (8:58 am) oh yeah right. my table manners that are the reason i’m his date. Sure, sypha

“Passengers in first class may board at this time,” the flight attendant called over the speakerphone. Sypha was texting Trevor back, distracted. Adrian touched Sypha’s shoulder, eyebrows raised. 

“That’s us.” Sypha startled. _Not used to that._

“Oh, yes. Right,” she huffed, pulling her little blue suitcase behind her. Adrian let the flight attendant store his black and grey Louis Vuitton suitcase overhead. They were seated in no time, fresh-squeezed orange juice served in crystal glasses upon arrival. Sypha took a sip. _Delicious._

“I got us a reservation tonight for dinner. It’s usually hard to get into restaurants in the city on a Saturday, but I snagged us one. I hope you’ll like it. It’s French. My treat, of course,” Adrian offered, buckling the belt around his lap. 

“You really didn’t have to do that. Really, we can just go somewhere cheap and grab a quick bite-” she protested quietly, and Adrian raised a hand to stop her, almost laughing.

“Sypha, please don’t feel bad. It’s not an inconvenience at all. Just relax, and enjoy yourself.” Sypha huffed lightly. _I know he’s loaded, but still. I don’t want to be a mooch._

“Alright, fine. But- but! You have to promise me I’ll get something at least. So I don’t feel like a leech. Maybe breakfast or lunch tomorrow, okay?” She took another sip of her drink.

“Sure. If you want to. Please don’t feel like a leech, Sypha. I offered, didn’t I? Actually, I kind of pushed you to come to this wedding with me.” Adrian sipped his orange juice. Sypha nodded, looking him over. She felt like a celebrity.

“Adrian, just how rich is your family?” Sypha whispered, curious. She wasn’t sure what level of wealth they really had.

“We’re - quite comfortable.”

“That’s something a really rich person says,” she whispered comically, which made Adrian laugh. He didn’t deny it. The plane took off, and Sypha’s eyes lit up as they did. She delighted in watching the ground get farther and farther away. It meant adventure was not far away.

“Did you book a return flight?” She asked.

“No, I wasn’t sure when you wanted to return. Do you have things you need to do before Monday?” He turned to face her.

“No, I got my work done, actually. I stayed up late so we could enjoy the weekend.”

“Good for you. I still need to finish a paper and submit it. Do you mind if I work on it during the flight?” He asked, reaching for his Louis Vuitton backpack. She shook her head, so he pulled out his CTC laptop and opened it.

“Do you mind if I take a nap?” She smirked. _The seats can go so far back, I want to take advantage._

“No, not at all. There should be a sleeping mask in there,” he pointed to the seat pocket, and when Sypha searched she did find a silk eye mask. She slept on the way to New York. When they got to the city, Adrian called a driver. Sypha shouldn’t have been surprised when a shiny Mercedes GLE came to pick them up, but she still was. _This isn’t an Uber, I don’t think._

“Good morning. Mr. Tepes, yes?” The driver asked. He was tall in frame with pitch black hair. Sypha became confused when she noticed the man was wearing a suit and tie. 

“Yes. Good morning. What’s your name, sir?” Adrian asked.

“Rob Syracuse, nice to meet you,” the driver smiled and shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you, too. We’ll be going to Cipriani first, on Wall Street. We’re attending a wedding. Could you drop the luggage off at my apartment in the meanwhile, please? It’s 170 E 87th St. You can hand it over to the concierge, they’ll take it to my apartment.”

“Absolutely, sir. Ma'am,” the man smiled, opening the door for them. Adrian and Sypha slipped in. Before the driver entered the car, Sypha whispered,

“This isn’t an Uber, is it?”

“Ha, no it’s not an Uber. I got us a driver for the day. That way we don’t have to worry about catching taxis, or finding cars. It’s simpler.”

“Right,” she whispered back, stupefied. _How much does that even cost? I guess it doesn’t matter._ The driver pulled out of JFK and merged into traffic.

“Adrian, I’m so excited to see the city!” She smiled.

“Good. I’ll be glad to show you around.”

“I bet you know Manhattan like the back of your hand,” she assumed, looking out the window as they went over the bridge into the city.

“Pretty much… I don’t know how long the wedding reception will be. But we can probably sneak out after a while.”

“Okay.”

“Oh, by the way, please don’t tell my parents that I smoke at all. They would be really mad,” he warned quietly, and Sypha nodded.

“Oh, okay. I won’t mention it. Promise.”

“Thank you.”

They drove through downtown and then to the financial district. Sypha looked out the car window in anticipation. Huge grey stone buildings, brick storefronts, and polished skyscrapers took her breath away. After a while, they pulled up to Cipriani, and the driver let them out. The large stone building was decorated with Greek columns. It almost looked like the stock exchange building, which was just down the road.

“This is where the wedding reception is?” She asked in confusion, stepping out of the car.

“Yes,” Adrian turned to look at her, smiling handsomely and extending his arm for her to take. Sypha smiled back and wrapped her arm around his, holding the little sparkly clutch he had given her in the other. She inhaled, a bit nervous. The attendants took their coats and they were ushered in, firstly having to give their names to ensure that they were on the list. When they walked inside, Sypha could hardly believe her eyes. It was the most lavish and beautifully decorated room she had ever seen. The inside of the building was massive, dimly lit, and decorous. The ceilings were incredibly high. Hundreds of tables lined the dance floor in the center. Everything was ornate and perfectly appointed, from the silk table runners to the posh photo displays. Sypha couldn’t begin to comprehend how much time and energy it had taken to design and prepare such a perfect space. People had begun to take their seats at elaborately decorated white and pink tables. The centerpieces were very tall and filled with different shades of pink roses. Sypha inhaled their aroma happily. She looked up to see the ceiling, which was so high up it was cast into shadow. The surrounding brick walls were dimly lit with pink light, making the entire hall glow. In the center of the ballroom, the shiny dancefloor featured a monogram of the couple’s name reflected onto it in light. Sypha gasped lightly, taking it all in.

“This is amazing,” she beamed, looking around, trying not to be too exuberant.

“It’s a bit lavish,” he whispered dryly, “and over-the-top. For a brunch reception.” 

“But it is pretty,” she returned, looking around to see a champagne tower being set up on one side. They inspected the room for a minute. It was almost too much to take in.

“There are my parents,” Adrian spoke up, and Sypha stiffened. She turned to her right and spotted them a few tables down. Adrian’s mother was very beautiful, wearing a red dress and holding a small sequined bag. Her voluminous long blonde hair was styled perfectly over her shoulder, making it look effortless in a way that really would take an hour to style. Her eyes were bright blue, like Sypha’s own, and her face was finely featured, with curved red lips and blonde eyebrows. Her face looked natural, practically Botox-free, and yet she was still beautiful and youthful-looking. Her form was slim and lithe like Adrian’s own. When she met her son’s gaze she smiled happily, only the faintest of wrinkles on the sides of her eyes. 

Dracula Tepes was a tall, towering figure. Lisa was much shorter than him. His eyes were brown but his hair was pitch black. A trimmed mustache and goatee gave him a striking appearance. Sypha could tell a resemblance between him and Adrian, even though it was much less than with his mother. They had the same straight, thin nose and regal brow. She could also tell the resemblance in their cheekbones, both high and graceful. In a way, Mr. Tepes was very handsome. But he was also intimidating and serious, so she supposed a lot of women would be too afraid of him to think him attractive. 

Vlad was all contrasts: black hair, nearly white skin, a black suit, and a white dress shirt underneath. The contrast was startling, to say the least, and it gave him a somewhat menacing and deathly appearance, even though he was only middle-aged. Like his son, his clothing was perfectly pressed and immaculate. Vlad emanated wealth and power in every facet of his being. His expression was neutral, but Sypha could see his careful and calculated gaze at work already as he sized her up next to his son. Gears were turning all the time inside his mind, she could tell. Adrian had a careful, calculating gaze much of the time too, but it wasn’t quite like Vlad’s. There was something deeper and even darker in Vlad’s eyes that Sypha wasn’t sure she wanted to know about. Something instinctual inside told her not to trust the man.

“Hello, Mom, Dad, this is Sypha Belnades, my date,” Adrian introduced. Sypha smiled as naturally as she could. She almost felt like she should bow.

“Hello,” she spoke up, her hand still wrapped around Adrian’s arm.

“Sypha, nice to meet you. You look lovely,” Lisa began in a British accent, stepping towards her and looking over the flowery Kate Spade earrings and blue lace dress.

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Hello, Sypha. Is this your first time in Manhattan?” Vlad asked, eyes fixed on her. His voice was rich and very smooth. Dark and velvety soft. Sypha tried not to gulp under his intimidating presence. She told herself not to be scared of him.

“No, I’ve been here once before but it was a very long time ago. It’s nice to see the city again.” She smiled slightly, inclining her head, strawberry bangs falling to the side. 

“Is this a cocktail hour?” Adrian asked, looking around a bit more as waiters came out with drinks.

“Yes, actually. The cocktail room is that way,” Lisa instructed, and they walked to a connecting room filled with food tables and a bar. Sypha leaned in to Adrian, next to his ear.

“What’s a cocktail hour?” Sypha whispered. Adrian smirked, trying not to laugh.

“It’s the period between the service and the formal reception. Guests can mingle, talk, and get snacks if they’re hungry. Sometimes there’s entertainment, or party gifts.”

“Oh.” She didn’t remember that from the weddings she had been to in the past, but then, they had been in a backyard.

They mingled for a while in the cocktail room, greeting the well dressed guests and dining on beautiful canapes. There were little french egg tarts, muffins, croissants, fresh fruit, parfait cups, an omelette station, a coffee bar, and, of course, a mimosa bar. Sypha’s stomach grumbled at the rich and fragrant array of scents.

“Can we eat something now?” She asked timidly, not sure if rich people actually ate or just took pictures of the food or something. Everyone was very thin or toned, and not many of them were eating. Sypha watched as Vlad left the room to take a call.

“Yeah, of course. Just don’t fill up too much,” Adrian responded, urging her to get something she liked. Lisa walked over, high heels clacking on the stone floor.

“How’s it going?”

“It’s lovely. Can I ask you a question?” Sypha leaned in to Lisa, who nodded.

“Yes, dear.”

“Is the groom by any chance related to Alexander Hamilton, the founding father?” She wondered, ever the history buff. Sypha had studied Alexander Hamilton in her history degree. He was very important to the creation of the United States, and he was the first Secretary of the Treasury. He was responsible for America's basic economic system. Lisa chuckled, nodding slowly.

“Actually, yes. Isn’t that brilliant? He’s Hamilton's sixth great-grandson.” Sypha’s eyes went wide at that. She marveled at the historical connection, suddenly wishing she could meet the man.

“Really? That’s amazing,” she awed, mouth agape. 

“You never told me that, mom,” Adrian spoke up. 

“Didn’t you see the broadway show, Adrian?” She asked her son.

“Yes, I did. When it first came out. I loved it. I read Ron Chernow’s biography before I saw the show,” Adrian remembered. She bounced on her heels.

“You’re so lucky. I would love to see the show! I heard it’s amazing.”

“It is! I’d love to go again. We can see it together sometime, if you want,” Adrian offered, smirking. Lisa smiled widely.

“That’s a great idea,” she beamed, “You should take her.” 

“That would be wonderful.” Sypha was overjoyed at the thought of going to see Hamilton. She could never afford a ticket on her own. One ticket was hundreds of dollars.

“So, what do we think? Is it too late for coffee, and too early for mimosas? Or the other way around?” Lisa asked them, raising a blonde eyebrow. Sypha laughed.

“You two can have a mimosa. Go ahead. Or have a coffee, whatever you like,” Lisa offered, playing with a dangling diamond earring. Sypha looked to Adrian, eyebrows raised.

“Mimosas? I’m in love with that fresh-squeezed orange juice,” Sypha suggested and Adrian nodded. They ordered their drinks at the fancy, flower-adorned bar, and snacked a little. Sypha tried a colorful yogurt parfait. Truthfully, it was the best yogurt she had ever had. When Adrian’s father came back, he approached them, wrapping his hand around Lisa.

“Let’s take our seats now. Where are we?” he asked his wife. She showed him the placement card and they went into the main hall to sit down. The bride and groom came out later, happy and beautiful, as everyone should be on their wedding day. The bride wore a ball gown with a tulle skirt and a beaded bodice. Sypha was stunned at the detail on her dress. She tried to spot any resemblance between the groom and his famous founding father ancestor, but she couldn’t see him clearly enough to tell. The happy couple went to sit at their white and pink rose-adorned head table, and everyone waited to be served. In not too long, waiters brought out eggs benedict, smoked salmon, and croque madames. 

“Mom, why did she do such an elaborate wedding in the middle of the day? Why not do an evening wedding?” Adrian asked, speaking softly. Lisa shrugged, cutting her croque madame. 

“I don’t know. It’s her wedding so I didn’t think it right to say it was odd. Besides, brunch weddings are in nowadays. It’s a new trend. We’ve been to a couple in the past few years. Right, honey?” She looked at her husband. Vlad only nodded, occupied with the food. He didn’t seem overly interested in the wedding. Michael Buble ballads played over the chatter.

“Sypha, what are you majoring in?” Vlad asked. Sypha looked up quickly from her eggs. Meeting Dracula’s eyes was almost like getting electrocuted. A chill went down her spine that warned her the man was a genius, and he was taking everything she said with seriousness. She gulped, trying to stifle the fear in her throat. She reminded herself that there was nothing to be afraid of. She tried not to think about all the crazy conspiracy theories there were about this man.

“I’m majoring in History and Peace and Justice Studies. I’m interested in archaeology, nonprofits, humanitarian work, or even working at the UN, eventually.”

“That’s very interesting,” he muttered, taking a bite of his eggs.

“Wonderful! How lovely. Peace and Justice Studies. I don’t think that was a major when we were going to college, was it dear?” Lisa turned to ask her husband. Vlad shook his head. Eyes averted, he asked another question.

“Adrian, have you told her about your career prospects?” Vlad asked nicely. Adrian simply looked at him for a moment, and Sypha could tell there was something uncomfortable in the air. She knew Adrian well enough to be able to tell that.

“Yes, I have.” His words were almost pained, but he did his best to sound neutral.

“Mm.”

There was a brief moment of subtle tension, which Lisa quickly cleared.

“I’m so glad he wants to become a doctor. It makes me so proud. I don’t know if Adrian told you or not, but I work at Mount Sinai, on the Upper East Side.”

"He did tell me, actually. That’s very impressive. It must be amazing to work there.”

“It is. It’s a great hospital. Maybe Adrian will work there with me one day,” she smiled, taking a sip of mimosa, “Can I ask - how long have you two been dating?” Lisa asked, eyebrows raised. 

“What?” Adrian blurted out quickly. Lisa scowled in confusion and Vlad smirked, laughing a little through his nose.

“Well, you seem to know each other pretty well, she’s your date, I thought-”

“It’s fine, Mrs. Tepes. We’ve been friends for a while now," Sypha corrected.

“Oh, I see. So- this is your first date then?” She asked, gesturing between them. Adrian made a face that showed his embarrassment clearly.

“I don’t think bringing her to a morning wedding, and sitting next to my parents counts as a date, Mom.”

Lisa laughed but Vlad kept a steady gaze on Adrian the whole time.

“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t know.” Lisa smiled, apologetic.

“It’s fine, no worries, Mrs. Tepes.” 

“Lisa, please dear, call me Lisa,” she touched Sypha’s shoulder affectionately.

“So- how long have you been friends?” She corrected herself.

"We met the day before spring semester. Adrian was volunteering at the food shelf the day that I was, and he introduced himself.” 

“My boy is wonderful, isn’t he? Volunteering on his own. And you as well, my, my. You two seem well-suited for each other.”

Sypha blushed a little. She supposed they did.

“So, what are you two going to do today? Adrian, are you going to show her around the city?” Vlad asked. Adrian nodded.

“I thought so. I wanted to show her the Top of the Standard, so she could see the view.”

“That's a good idea. I bet Sypha will definitely enjoy the view there. You could also go to Ophelia, in the Beekman. They have great views as well.”

“Either sounds good.”

Sypha looked between them, no idea what these places were.

“I have no idea where we’re going, I’ll just trust you, Adrian. You’ve lived here for long enough, I bet you know all the spots,” Sypha said to him, sipping a mimosa.

“The great thing about this city is that it’s always the same and yet it’s always changing. Some of the iconic spots never fade, but the rest of the city is always being innovated and re-done. Something is always happening,” Lisa explained.

“True.”

“Are you two staying at the apartment, then?” Lisa asked, “We’ll be at the house, but please stay there if you want. The guest room is all made up.”

“Yes, we are,” Adrian answered, eyes on Sypha. The conversation faded in and out, Dracula and Lisa talking with other couples, including the bride and groom. Sypha listened and didn’t speak, slightly intimidated by these important figures that she would usually only read about in gossip columns or the Washington Post. There was one person that stopped by the table that Sypha was sure she knew. The woman was short and toned, with long highlighted hair and a narrow, aging face that Sypha would recognize anywhere. She wore a navy and silver dress and shiny high heels. Her trademark. _Sarah Jessica Parker._

“Hi, Sarah,” Lisa smiled as the thin woman leaned in a gave Lisa a kiss on the cheek.

“Hello, darling. How are you? You look great,” she smiled, and Sypha watched, awestruck as they spoke as friends. 

“Thank you. So do you! Vlad, you remember Sarah? We met the UNICEF gala last year.” Vlad took in the celebrity briefly, nodding casually.

“Yes, good to see you again.”

They chatted for a while, discussing UNICEF and the wedding.

“Are these your kids?” Sarah asked, smiling. Sypha was shocked when she made eye contact with the celebrity. Suddenly flashbacks from Sex and the City went through her mind. Sarah had such a distinctive voice. 

“This is our son, Adrian,” he smiled shallowly, waving, “and his date, Sypha. They both go to Wallachia, up in Rochester.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. Do you guys like going to school up there?” She asked, hand on Lisa’s shoulder. They appeared to be comfortable friends. Sypha could hardly believe she was mingling with celebrities. 

“Yes, it’s great. We really enjoy it,” Adrian answered, not at all phased by a celebrity talking to him. She supposed he didn’t think anything of it. He parents were celebrities of their own, after all, even though they weren't in the spotlight.

“It’s a wonderful school… I’m such a fan of yours, by the way,” Sypha felt the need to add.

“Oh, thank you! You’re so sweet,” she smiled, before turning to Lisa, talking to her about something. In a minute or two she had left and said goodbye. Sypha bit her lip. _Well, that was a talking point_ , she thought. Trevor would enjoy hearing about this. And it was only noon. Next, there was a champagne tower and the newlywed game, and afterward, people began filtering out. Vlad seemed like he was antsy to go, regularly checking the silver Rolex on his wrist. After a while, he leaned over to his beautiful wife, towering over her even while seated.

“Are you ready to go, Lisa?” He asked, and she nodded. They said their goodbyes, and Sypha told Adrian’s parents she was happy to have met them. On their way out, they picked up a wedding gift bag for the guests. Sypha startled at the thing, a shiny white bag with silk ribbon handles and pink monogramming. When they were sitting comfortably in the back of the Mercedes SUV, she opened it up.

“What’s in the gift bag?” Adrian wondered, peering into it. Sypha pulled out a small bottle of personalized champagne that said ‘The Hamilton’s Wedding 2018’ and smiled.

“Nice,” Adrian chuckled, taking it from her. She searched through the rest of the goodie bag.

“There are some little soaps, a small candle, some macaroons, bath salts, a bottle opener, and two small drinking glasses.” She boggled at the price that it would be to give every guest one of these. Every item was luxurious.

“Cute. We can have the champagne later.”

They were both quiet for a moment, reeling from the commotion of the wedding.

“Sypha, how are you doing?” Adrian asked, capturing her attention away from the historic stone Wall Street buildings. She smiled.

“I’m great. It was a lovely reception. I can’t believe we got to meet Sarah Jessica Parker! That was awesome. I loved Sex and the City.”

“Ugh, I hated Sex and the City,” Adrian groaned. Sypha turned to him, scowling.

“Why?” 

“The fashion was horrible. The characters were fake. There were no women of color. It’s offensive and rude. And sets a horrible example for women…” he ranted off, obviously annoyed.

“Wait, what? How is it offensive? I haven’t seen that much of the show,” she wondered.

“It’s biphobic. Her character said such shitty things about bi men. She said that we’re weird, and we all end up with guys. And she said she doesn’t even think bisexuals exist. That we’re just halfway on the road to being gay or something. She dates a bisexual guy on the show, talks badly about him behind his back, and then leaves him at a party without even breaking up with him. Disgusting… and you know what the horrible thing is? People looked up to her awful character and thought it was an appropriate way to act. I’ve had that exact thing happen to me before, and I can’t even explain how much that episode hurt me. It’s just- it’s a really terrible show,” he vented, sighing and looking out the window, aggravation written on his beautiful face. Sypha frowned. _That must be awful._

“Adrian, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that. That’s terrible.” Adrian glanced her way, golden eyes emotive and sad.

“I mean, it’s her character, not her. But still. I just-” he sighed in exasperation. 

“Yeah, I get it,” Sypha bit her lip. She took Adrian’s hand, and he looked up when she threaded her fingers through his. His beautiful lips curved into a smile when she did.

“We can talk about something else.” 

They were silent for a moment, looking at the urban scenery outside the car.

“Is my dad as intimidating as people say he is?” Adrian asked. Sypha chuckled nervously for a second, but then she quieted.

“He’s a little intimidating, yes, and not just because of his wealth or - the rumors about him. He’s - I don’t know. When you look at his eyes you can tell he’s so smart and important. It’s hard to describe. It’s like he’s ten steps ahead of everyone else. I see that same expression sometimes in your eyes, too, but it’s different. I’m not sure how to express it really, but, it’s like he has an agenda and everyone is-”

“Players in his game?” Adrian finished quietly. He turned to face her and she nodded. Sypha didn’t say anything, too worried to do so. 

“Yeah,” he added, sighing, “That’s how it feels with him sometimes. Especially with the business, or if my future comes into conversation. But- whatever... I don’t want to talk about that. You’re in Manhattan! What do you want to do?” Adrian re-directed the conversation, replacing his serious expression with a more lively, youthful one. 

“Oh my god, I don’t know. There’s so much to do. Why - why don’t we do the shopping first, get that out of the way?” Sypha suggested, overwhelmed with possibilities.

“Sure. Let’s try jewelry first, art second. How about that? Oh, and later on, do you want to go to this great bar with a view? The one I mentioned at brunch? So you can get the whole effect of the city?” He asked, gesturing.

“Yeah! That sounds great! Do you mind if I change first?” _These heels are kind of hurting. I miss my flats already._

“Of course. Let’s go to my place first, change, and then go to Bergdorf’s.”

Their driver took them right to the Tepes’ apartment. Sypha sighed as they traversed the Upper East Side. She adored seeing everything from the car window. Massive white stone apartment buildings, old brick schools, shops, and restaurants. Adrian pointed out landmarks and famous spots as they drove by them, stoking her enthusiasm.

A/N: Please leave a review. I made a massive chapter with approx. 12,000 words so I'm breaking it into three parts. Trevor will be back soon, promise. Lots of interesting stuff ahead. The next couple of chapters should be out very soon because I'm bored at home and I just need to edit them.


	12. An Afternoon In the City

**CHAPTER TWELVE: An Afternoon in the City**

* * *

Tepes Apartment:  [ https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/170-E-87th-St-EPH1C-New-York-NY-10128/31541850_zpid/? ](https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/170-E-87th-St-EPH1C-New-York-NY-10128/31541850_zpid/?)

Venus de Fleur bouquet:  [ https://www.venusetfleur.com/products?box=1443f090-3f3a-11e8-b0cb-7f621da1bc14&box_variant=5d4a9520-543c-11e8-94c5-fdb368c5353c&flower_one=c47b2130-cf5e-11e9-bc20-81010a8f977e&flower_two=f963c670-cf5b-11e9-bc20-81010a8f977e&stencil=20c4edb0-3f3a-11e8-b0cb-7f621da1bc14#/steps/arrangement/colors ](https://www.venusetfleur.com/products?box=1443f090-3f3a-11e8-b0cb-7f621da1bc14&box_variant=5d4a9520-543c-11e8-94c5-fdb368c5353c&flower_one=c47b2130-cf5e-11e9-bc20-81010a8f977e&flower_two=f963c670-cf5b-11e9-bc20-81010a8f977e&stencil=20c4edb0-3f3a-11e8-b0cb-7f621da1bc14#/steps/arrangement/colors)

Adrian’s room: 

Bed  [ https://www.perigold.com/furniture/pdp/lexington-carrera-upholstered-standard-bed-ltn3543.html ](https://www.perigold.com/furniture/pdp/lexington-carrera-upholstered-standard-bed-ltn3543.html)

Bedding  [ https://www.zgallerie.com/p-21691-edessa-bedding-amethyst.aspx ](https://www.zgallerie.com/p-21691-edessa-bedding-amethyst.aspx)

Lisa’s gift - necklace:  [ https://www.bergdorfgoodman.com/p/ippolita-18k-gold-lollitini-multi-stone-necklace-18-l-prod126440034 ](https://www.bergdorfgoodman.com/p/ippolita-18k-gold-lollitini-multi-stone-necklace-18-l-prod126440034)

Lisa’s gift - shoes:  [ https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/christian-louboutin-nicol-is-back-ombre-satin-mules/product/0400012194667?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306622397&R=400121946773&P_name=Christian+Louboutin&N=4294912355+306622397&bmUID=nafz22I ](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/christian-louboutin-nicol-is-back-ombre-satin-mules/product/0400012194667?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306622397&R=400121946773&P_name=Christian+Louboutin&N=4294912355+306622397&bmUID=nafz22I)

* * *

“Wow, this part of the city is so fancy. Is your apartment close by?” Sypha asked, turning away from Adrian to look out the window. He nodded, looking up from his phone.

“Yes, it’s just a couple of blocks away. Our building is called ‘The Gotham’.”

“I shouldn’t be surprised your family lives here,” Sypha laughed dryly at her own stupidity. Of course the billionaire Tepes family would have a place on the Upper East Side. When the driver pulled up to the trademark green porte-cochere in front of the tall stone and brick apartment building, Sypha leaned over to see the building fully. Unlike the rest of Manhattan, which had streets lined with people and trash, the sidewalks of the Upper East Side were abruptly clean and perfect. Very few people walked the streets. Only the occasional lululemon-clad housewife walking her pedigree puppy, or a service person. No homeless people sat on stoops or laid on the ground, unlike the rest of New York City. Sypha wanted to comment or ask about that, but she kept it to herself. It felt a bit too uncomfortable to do so given that Adrian lived in the area.

The driver opened the car door for them and then a white-gloved doorman opened the door to the apartment building as they walked inside. It was a beautifully sunny day, and to Sypha it felt like a scene from a movie. She had never experienced such a level of service before.

“Hello, Mr. Tepes, nice to see you,” the doorman smiled. Adrian laughed.

“Hello. Samuel, you can call me Adrian, remember?” He reminded the man, like he had done it a hundred times.

“Ah, yes. Of course. Just back for the weekend?” Samuel asked, taking the large gift bag from Adrian and carrying it for him, still smiling.  _ It’s like he has servants.  _

“Yes, showing my friend around the city.” He gestured to Sypha, who grinned.

“Oh, wonderful. Enjoy your weekend.”

“Thank you.”

“Thanks so much.” Sypha stepped inside, grasping her little clutch in hand. They took the elevator to the top floor. Samuel came in after them with the bag.

“Penthouse?” She asked knowingly, smirking. Adrian just nodded. He unlocked the door and they entered the expansive apartment. Sam quietly dropped off the bag on an entry table and left them.

“Come on inside. This is the main living room. It has the best TV,” Adrian explained as they walked into the large, perfectly furnished room. There was a huge grey-beige suede couch with matching chairs, sitting on top of a modern rug. On the coffee table sat a large Venus de Fleur box of white roses, perfectly arranged. In the far corner of the room, there was a circular dining table with pretty silver chairs and a modern white chandelier overtop. Tall windows, accented by silver damask curtains covered the expansive walls. There were so many windows that the whole apartment filled with light. From the windows, the view of the city was clear and mostly unobstructed, providing an enchanting and classically rich feeling. One thing Sypha instantly noted when she stepped inside was the smell.  _ Rich people’s apartments smell so good. _ There was an air of roses and vanilla in the apartment. As soon as they entered the room, two dogs greeted them immediately. One was a fluffy golden Maltipoo and the other a small white Pomeranian. The cute dogs yipped at their heels and greeted them warmly. Sypha laughed.

“These are my mom’s dogs.”

“Aw! What are their names?”

“The Maltipoo is Teddy. And the pomeranian is Mochi.” 

“Cute! Aww. They’re so adorable,” Sypha cooed, petting the little dogs. They were both impeccably groomed and fluffy. Sypha giggled as they bounced and barked around her feet while she ruffled their fur. 

“Ramona?” Adrian suddenly called out, taking off his coat. Sypha scowled, confused.  _ Ramona?  _ She looked up and watched as a curvy middle-aged woman approached them. She wore a light blue and white housekeeping dress and shiny black shoes. Her brown hair was pulled into a tight sock bun. She smiled at Adrian and came forward to embrace him. 

“Adrian, hello! Hello,” she greeted. Adrian hugged her back.

“How are you?”

“I’m doing well! And who is this, then? Your girlfriend?” Ramona asked in a Hispanic accent, looking to where Sypha stood in the entryway, pretty and polished in her blue dress and beige wool coat. “She’s pretty.”

“She’s my friend,” Adian corrected quietly.

“Oh! Hello. Nice to meet you. I’m Ramona. Can I take your coat, dear?” She asked, her expression pleasant. She took the coat from Sypha and hung it in the closet.

“Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Do you want anything? Please, let me get you a little bite or something to eat.”

“We just came from the Hamilton’s wedding reception. So we’re pretty full,” Adrian declined, walking through the living room. Sypha noticed the massive TV Adrian had mentioned. It was built right into the wall. They followed Ramona into the kitchen, a modern white marble masterpiece. Everything, from the counters to the backdrop and even the walls, was made of white and grey marble. All custom made. Sypha’s mouth fell open. Every surface was squeaky clean and polished. The only signs of life in the kitchen were a couple of towels and a row of clear jars with various teas and spices inside. One wall in the kitchen was only shiny white cabinetry, completely flush. Embedded in the lacquered wall were a fridge, an oven, and a pantry.  _ Where am I?  _

“Well, have a little something to drink then. How about some coconut water, Adrian? Your favorite,” she smiled, going into the fridge and pulling out a bottle. Adrian put the small champagne bottle they got from the wedding inside.

“Sure, thanks. Sypha, do you want one?” He asked, leaning against the counter behind him casually. Sypha blinked. She assumed at that point that Ramona was a live-in housekeeper, something she couldn’t imagine given her modest upbringing. But said nothing and accepted. 

“We’re just going to change and then we’re going shopping. I need to get my mom something for her birthday, and Sypha said she would help me look.” Sypha nodded, taking a drink from the delicious drink. 

“That is a good idea. Do you know what you’re going to get her?”

“No, I don’t. Maybe jewelry? Or art?” He shrugged.

“You could make her something. Make a painting,” Ramona suggested, and Adrian tilted his head. He took a drink.

“I don’t have time. Too much schoolwork. Maybe for mother’s day I can.” 

“Well, good luck. Are you going to give her a tour of the apartment first, Adrian? Show her the guest bedroom I made up?” Ramona suggested, drying her hands on her apron. Adrian nodded. Sypha tried the coconut water curiously.

“Sure. And Ramona, can you please unbox the package I ordered and put it in my room? Come on, Sypha. You can leave your drink if you want.” He gestured for her to follow and she did, setting down her drink and walking by the all-white wall of kitchen appliances. 

“This is the little eat-in kitchen area,” Adrian explained. A spotless glass table and six upholstered chairs sat adjacent to the kitchen. This table featured a short white and green floral arrangement composed of hydrangea, roses, calla lilies, sword fern, and an ivy lacing. The sidewall was all mirrored and displayed a small statue. Adrian pointed to something out on the other side.

“That’s the bar cart if you want to get a drink for yourself. Or you can ask Ramona to make you one.” The clear cart was stocked with vodka, gin, white rum, and mixers. Below were many different drinking glasses and garnishes, like olives and lemons. The dogs followed them down the hallway, yipping happily. They made noise jumping around on the polished dark hardwood floor. Sypha had never seen a place so clean except for Adrian’s apartment in Rochester. Growing up, her home had never been perfect. There was always some cat fur, tissues, trash, and various objects lying around. Books and glasses. Not here. Everything was put away and shiny polished to perfection. They went down the hallway into another living room.

“This is the family room. Some of my artwork is in here. I like to read in that window seat sometimes,” he explained, and Sypha stepped into the space, heels clicking on the hardwood. It was another large room, filled with interesting and vibrant artwork. At the end of the hallway, there was a long window seat with a pillow, overlooking the city. Two plush dog beds sat beneath it. Around the room, there were different artworks and sculptures showcased on clear tables. Above the light couch, there was a vibrant gold and red painting featuring a black woman in bright red lipstick. 

“Is that yours?” She asked Adrian.  _ It’s really good. _

“Yes, it is. That one too,” he said, pointing to a rainy scene of New York at night. It was modern in style and slightly impressionistic in colors of blue, green, and grey. Light reflected off cars and city sidewalks.

“They’re amazing! You’re really talented, Adrian,” Sypha complimented. Adrian smiled coyly.

“Thanks. The others are by Doron Langberg. He’s amazing. I met him in his art gallery in Chelsea. He’s a gay artist from Israel. I took my mom there and she loved his works, too, so she bought a few. She likes colorful paintings.” Adrian pointed to a series of portraits of people lounging, done in a modern and slightly abstracted style. The colors were vivid and a bit jarring to the eye. The bold colors and incomplete style felt somewhat discordant, but not in a bad way.

“They’re so interesting. I like the style.”

“Come over here. This is the art studio and music room, of sorts,” he pulled her over to a connecting room. The walls were completely full of books and interesting bookends. There was a drawing desk, a painting easel, a violin, and a music stand, as well as a comfortable floor ottoman to sit on. Sypha sat down on it, taking in the room and resting her feet, which were starting to hurt in the high heels. 

“I can draw or play the violin here. I love this room,” he gently sighed. Sypha could tell he did. She noticed on the far wall that there were more infantile paintings. She giggled.

“Are these your paintings from when you were a kid?” She wondered, getting up and walking over to them. Adrian laughed.

“Yeah, they’re pretty bad. But Mom likes them, so she keeps them up.”

“I like them too! That’s so cute.” There were paintings of his family, of sunsets, and various pets. She giggled again at a particularly cute painting of the ocean in watercolor, complete with googly-eyed sharks, octopus, and fish.

“Will you play the violin for me?” Sypha asked.

“I would, but we don’t have time. Remind me tomorrow,” he beckoned for her to follow, “Come on.”

“What’s that room?” She asked, noticing a closed-door off of the family room.

“That’s Roberta’s bedroom… She works here full time. She does pretty much everything. Cooking, cleaning, shopping. Looking after the dogs. She takes them on walks and takes them to the groomers. We help, too, but when we’re gone she keeps the place nice for us. And she lives here, too, of course. She’s practically a member of the family.” Sypha couldn’t imagine the cost of that, but she shook it off again. Billionaires can afford a lot.  _ Adrian’s father is one of the richest men in the US. Of course, they can afford a live-in housekeeper. _

“There’s another bedroom there but that’s just a guest room. Not yours, though. Let’s keep going. They walked back through the family room. Sypha kept spotting more doors.

“That’s a bathroom. And that’s the pantry and the wine room,” he added nonchalantly. 

"The wine room?” Sypha gaffed, shocked.  _ What New York City apartment had a wine room? _

“It’s a part of the pantry. My parents didn’t install it. It was here when they bought the place. It's in here.” He opened the pantry door and they went inside. The large pantry was stocked and at the far end, there was a sliding door. Adrian opened it, revealing a square wine room with a hundred bottles or so displayed on the wooden shelves and racks. 

“Wow. Impressive,” Sypha mumbled, looking at a few of the bottles.

“Let's keep going. I want to finish the tour so I can actually show you the city,” he laughed. Sypha was intrigued enough with the apartment, but she nodded and followed along. They went up a narrow staircase onto the second floor. 

“There are two floors,” Sypha baffled. 

“No, there are technically four, including the rooftop deck,” Adrian corrected. Her eyes went wide.  _ Christ. How much would a place like this cost? Ten million? Twenty? I have no idea. _

"This is the gallery area,” he muttered as they walked by a large silver table flanked by two white chairs. The table was covered with silver framed photos, souvenirs, and more white flowers. The gallery was two stories, and Sypha looked up at the exposed hallway on the third floor in awe. She had never seen such a thing in an apartment. It was almost like a museum. 

“Wow.”

“This is the formal dining room.” He stepped forward languidly, running a hand through his long blonde hair. Sypha looked around. The room was a masterpiece. There was a large grey wood modern dining table with twelve matching modern chairs. Three small pink bouquets graced the table. Above were a triplet of sparkling square light fixtures, hanging close to the ceiling. They were very pretty and stood out against the tiered silver-painted ceiling. Sypha couldn’t imagine eating in a place this classy. On the right, there were two huge floor-to-ceiling windows adorned with white and grey curtains that brushed the floor. On the other side of the room there were two doors and on the back wall, a grey table bearing two black statues. Behind, on the wall, was a large rectangular painting in a style that Sypha found very familiar. She walked closer. It was grey, white, and blue in color with abstract scenes of men playing guitars. The cubist style seemed quite familiar. 

“Is that a Picasso?” She gasped loudly when she saw the signature, quite incredulous. Adrian chuckled.

“Ah, yeah. It is. My father likes Picasso. He has a couple originals.”

When Sypha turned around she couldn't help her stupefied expression and open mouth. He laughed at her expression and silence.

“There's another kitchen. A tiny one. And there’s another bath there. Outside there’s a terrace with chairs, but it’s too cold to go out there now.” Sypha looked out at the large brick terrace. They walked down the gallery into another living room.

“How many bedrooms are there in the apartment?” 

“Ah, six bedrooms, and seven baths.”  _ Holy shit. _

The third living room was dominated by a massive purple, blue, and beige rug. Four comfortable sofa chairs, a coffee table, and a couch pulled the space together. The upholstery was the same subdued grey-beige as the rest of the couch. The modern painting above the couch was illuminated with its own lighting set. At the back, there were two bookcases built into the walls.

“This is another living room. I don’t know why there are so many... This is another foyer, and you can come into the apartment through that door,” he walked through the area, “This door is to my mom’s office and sitting room.” Once they had passed the stone foyer they entered the office. 

“Woah,” Sypha exclaimed, in awe of the room. It was not very big, but the walls were covered in brown wood lacquered cabinetry, flush with the wall. Only a couple of the rectangles that made up the wall were open, showing off books and knick-knacks. A plush brown and grey checkered sectional topped with pillows sat in the corner. There was a grey-beige velvet sitting chair and matching square sitting stools around the wooden coffee table. The ceiling was tiered with recessed lighting. Past the shiny wood, lacquer wall was an office space with a large modern wood desk and high backed desk chair. A new CTC desktop sat proudly on top. The office boasted a display shelf of modern art and a window with sweeping views of the city. Dr. Tepes’ papers lay on top, slightly messier than Adrian’s own desk. 

“It’s amazing. She’s so lucky to have an office like this at home,” Sypha commented, looking at a silver buddha statue and an ornate vase on a display shelf.  _ It’s like something out of a magazine. It probably was in a magazine. _

“Yes, I suppose she is. Let’s finish the tour, come on. I’ll go quickly.”

He led her up the stairs again and into another hallway. There was a set of white double doors and Adrian opened them, stepping inside.

“This is my parent’s suite. But usually, only my mom stays here during the workweek. They’re not home, so I’ll show you quickly. That’s my dad’s closet here, which is pretty empty. That’s the bathroom. And this is the bedroom.”

The master was much more soft and comforting than the rest of the apartment. The bed was topped with large puffy pillows and beige silk bed sheets. It looked over more incredible views of the city. Large windows were flanked by yellow-beige curtains that matched the walls. In front of the window, there was a beautiful rosy pink chaise lounge, making for a cozy, feminine feel. Lisa’s closet was enormous, bigger than Sypha’s dorm, although it was largely filled with scrubs for her work. The bath had a walk-in shower, a soaker tub, a vanity, and two sinks with a mirrored wall. After looking inside the white and beige marble bathroom, they moved on.

“Here’s a bathroom. You can use this one,” he opened the door and Sypha peered inside the silver and grey modern masterpiece of a bathroom that more closely resembled an art installation.

“And here, this will be your bedroom, Sypha.” Adrian smiled, walking inside. It was gorgeous. The queen-sized bed had a feminine white silk headboard, and it was topped with pink, silver, and white satin pillows. The light bedding looked expensive and soft. On the far wall, there was a small vanity, with a pink cushion seat and a huge mirror above. On both sides of the vanity, there were windows, accented by light pink curtains and vases below. In the corner sat a squared white silk sitting chair with pillows, a glamorous floor lamp behind it. Her cheap luggage stood out tackily by the closet door. Sypha smiled, looking it all over. It was more luxurious than any hotel room she could ever afford.

“Do you like it?” Adrian asked.

“I love it! It’s so beautiful and feminine. The bed, the chair, ah! And the views are amazing. Thank you so much!” Sypha beamed, almost jumping. She peeled off her heels, setting them beside her little suitcase. Adrian smiled as she did so.

“I’m glad you like it. Ah, I almost forgot. I got you a little something. You can wear it tonight if you want. When we go out. I ordered it for you and had it delivered here. One second,” he left and walked down the hallway. Sypha followed him. The hallway leading to his bedroom was open to the floor below. 

“Is this your room?” Sypha wondered as Adrian opened the door. 

“Yes. Here, come on in,” he gestured for her to follow him in. His room was about the same size, but instead with purple-grey walls that gave the room a uniquely rich and mature feeling. They matched the color of the velvet Jacquard patterned bedding on his black bed. It had a large black headboard and frame with nailhead trim in silver. There were two silver nightstands on either side and a black ottoman at the foot of the bed. Around the room, there were a few closets, a black dresser, and a beautiful window seat with purple cushions matching his bedding. It felt like a bedroom for royalty. Sypha marveled at the space. There were a few art pieces: portrait sketches, nude male line drawings, and a black and white abstract painting. A few of his things lined the surfaces: a silver and black globe, a stack of books, a colored pencil set. Sypha brushed her fingers over the globe and spun it around.

“It’s all very- you,” she smirked, looking over to Adrian, who was getting something.

“My room?”

“Yes. It’s so classy and dark and… mysterious. A true Scorpio bedroom,” she joked, and Adrian simply looked at her, raising a brow.

“I suppose,” he agreed, a little dryly. 

“Still don’t really believe in horoscopes?” Sypha teased, and Adrian gave her a look.

“Sorry, still not that convinced. I don’t see how the sun’s relative position at a person’s birth influences their personality.”

“Hmm... Maybe I’ll convince you later. What’s that?” She asked, looking at the box in his arms.

“It’s an outfit for you. For tonight. If you like it,” he offered, handing her the large black box that said BCBG. She set it down on his bed and opened the lid. Inside the big box was a smaller one wrapped with a bow. A pair of gold earrings rested inside, consisting of many hoops together with two crystals, modern and unique in style.

“I love them!”

“Keep going,” Adrian urged, sitting on the ottoman and leaning on his bed, sliding off his own shoes. Next there was a black feather-trimmed clutch and a pair of black heels with a bow tie-back. She looked over to Adrian.

“You didn’t need to buy me all this. Seriously. You’re too sweet.”

“Don’t mention it. It wasn’t even that much.”

“Isn’t BCBG a designer?” Sypha asked, eyebrow raised. Adrian made a face.

“Not an expensive one,” he protested, “Go on. Look at the dress.”

“Okay.” She opened the last item, a cutout draped black dress with a crossed halter neckline and an asymmetrical skirt. It was very fashionable. 

“Wow. It’s very nice,” Sypha sighed, touching the soft fabric.

“I thought you could wear it to dinner and when we go to the Top of the Standard,” he suggested, taking off his jacket. Sypha watched him shrug it off, appreciating the athletic lines of his body.

“Okay. Thank you,” she smiled, “Can I put on comfortable clothes to go shopping, though?”  _ I can’t wear heels all day long, especially since I have to wear them tonight. _

“Yes, of course.”  _ Thank God. _

Soon they were dressed in street clothes and back in the Mercedes again. Sypha changed into a blue button-down sweater and a pair of black and white gingham pants. She had opted to keep the beautiful coat Adrian gave her. She loved it, truth be told, and she had never had such a nice piece of clothing before. Adrian had changed into a white cashmere sweater and black jeans. On the way to Bergdorf’s, Adrian reached over and somewhat timidly took Sypha’s hand in his. She threaded her fingers through his. When he smiled at her and warmth emanated from his golden eyes she easily leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. He exhaled contentedly through his nose when she did. Adrian was warm and his broad chest was nice to cuddle against, she thought. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her to him as they looked out the window of the car. 

Sypha wondered for a moment if all of this - the trip, the gifts, the flights - if they came with expectations.  _ Maybe Adrian wants something more, something he’s not saying.  _ She thought about it for a moment, focusing on the feeling of his hand around her and the warmth in the crook of his neck. He smelled wonderful, some rich and seductive cologne making him all the more appealing. Adrian was definitely handsome, that certainly wasn’t an issue, but part of her wondered what she would say if he asked to sleep with her.  _ I like him. He has a dark sarcasm and magnetism that I love… and he’s smart, and sweet. There’s no reason not to sleep with him, right? _ But still, part of her ached in the wrong way when she thought about getting together with him, if only because she knew that doing that would mean hurting Trevor. She wasn’t sure yet if Trevor truly liked her as more than just a friend, but either way he would be jealous. And very upset if he knew she was going to be dating Adrian, because that would take time away from him.  _ Trevor can get really jealous. He did when I had a boyfriend the last time, but I’m not sure if that was romantic or just because he hated not being the center of my attention anymore. _ She sighed into Adrian’s neck, feeling conflicted. 

_ No se que hacer. O cómo sentirse. No quiero herir ninguno de sus sentimientos, pero me temo que no importa lo que haga, uno de ellos se sentirá mal. (I don't know what to do. Or how to feel. I don't want to hurt either of their feelings, but I'm afraid no matter what I do, one of them will feel bad.)  _ There were reasons that Sypha had never started something with Trevor, despite her feelings. She would be a fool to deny that he had a lot of problems, and some of them would likely make him an unreliable and difficult boyfriend. He was difficult enough as a friend sometimes, with the binge drinking and the incessant grouchiness. She knew Trevor was working on himself. Trying to become a greater person and find himself. Sypha wasn’t sure if she should interfere with that process and disrupt his self-improvement. If she was going to be with him, she wanted to be with him after he finished maturing. After he became the man he wanted to be.  _ And it’s not like Trevor’s ever asked me out or told me that he likes me. We’ve been friends for so long, I don’t know if anything would ever happen between us. But with Adrian, maybe… No lo sé. I’ll just have to see what happens.  _

“We’re here, sir,” the driver announced, pulling up to Bergdorf Goodman. The Plaza hotel was just across the park square. Sypha and Adrian got out and entered the white stone building. They shopped for the afternoon, lingering in the jewelry section. Adrian described his mom’s particular tastes and Sypha helped him pick something out. Eventually, they decided on an Ippolita jeweled necklace. The gold chain bore many circular gems in a harmonious blend of amethyst, clear quartz, peridot, and London blue topaz. It was very stylish and Adrian agreed that his mother would like it. When he went to the checkout, Sypha glanced at the price on the till: $3,159.  _ Oh my god. Lucky Lisa... He never even asked about the price.  _ They walked around the area afterward. Sypha held Adrian’s hand as he showed her the Plaza Hotel, Central Park, and Rockefeller Center, describing historical significance and movie references on the way. They watched the skaters for a while as they circled around the ice skating rink. Sypha's thoughts drifted to Trevor for a while. _He's so good on the ice._

“Do you want to get a coffee or something?” Adrian asked, bringing Sypha out of her reverie. Sypha nodded, as it was pretty chilly and all their walking was tiring her out. They headed inside the shopping plaza for lattes, which Sypha insisted on buying, and then continued shopping around. Adrian said he felt like he should get something else for his mother’s birthday, so they went into Saks Fifth Avenue across the street, where he picked out a pair of colorful satin Christian Louboutin heels. 

“What other sights are there in the area? You’re a good tour guide.” She wrapped herself around his arm. Adrian looked down at her affectionately when she did so, and she smiled widely when he pressed a kiss on her cold cheek, giggling a little. 

“That’s Saint Patrick’s cathedral over there, built in 1879. And the MoMa is down on 53st, a couple of blocks away. The Museum of Modern Art.” Sypha’s eyes lit up. 

“Do we have time to go?” She wondered, biting her lip. Adrian shook his head.

“No, sorry. We need to get changed and get to dinner. We can go to a museum tomorrow if you want. I think I have enough presents for my mom, so we can do whatever we want,” he explained, texting for the driver to pick them up. Sypha wondered what Adrian had in store for the evening. She blushed a little as she thought about going out with him at night in the city. In honesty, Sypha felt like a princess going around with him. After shopping in such luxurious stores and mingling with celebrities, her arm wrapped around a handsome billionaires' son, she felt like she had been transported into a stranger’s fantastical life. One she had never ached for, but delighted her still, if even for a day. She admitted to herself it was fun to see how the other half lived. Adrian’s world was making more sense to her, the pieces starting to fall into place. But as they stepped into the Mercedes GLE again, and she looked over his elegant profile, Sypha knew there was still a lot she didn’t know about him.  _ Maybe tonight I can ask some of the questions I’ve had on my mind for weeks. And maybe... maybe I’ll finally tell him the things I’ve been holding back. _

* * *

**A/N: Please leave a review!**


	13. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian and Sypha go on their first date in the city. Trevor has a bit of a breakdown in his dorm.
> 
> //note// Trevor has issues. He has alcoholic tendencies and attachment problems. Not claiming this is a good way to deal with these things, just FYI. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! I would recommend listening to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OMg_tqYjdNk&t=1755s, https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7dI2I3mEjFacBYFFuseHYx, or https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1Vtq5pePI2g6p0MpAB2gDt

* * *

**Restaurant** \- La Grenouille: [ https://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g60763-d424452-Reviews-La_Grenouille-New_York_City_New_York.html#photos;aggregationId=101&albumid=101&filter=7&ff=49830183](https://www.tripadvisor.com/Restaurant_Review-g60763-d424452-Reviews-La_Grenouille-New_York_City_New_York.html#photos;aggregationId=101&albumid=101&filter=7&ff=49830183)

Adrian’s Dinner Jacket: [ https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/emporio-armani-mens-velvet-satin-lapel-dinner-jacket-prod222950238 ](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/emporio-armani-mens-velvet-satin-lapel-dinner-jacket-prod222950238)

**Top of the Standard** (club): [ https://www.yelp.com/biz_photos/the-top-of-the-standard-new-york?select=Hi9giwgNTTxQhhh5F3RzAg ](https://www.yelp.com/biz_photos/the-top-of-the-standard-new-york?select=Hi9giwgNTTxQhhh5F3RzAg)

  
**Sypha’s Clubbing Outfit - BCBG**

Coat: [ https://www.bcbg.com/en/sophiana-faux-fur-jacket/14307BM-683.html?dwvar_14307BM-683_color=683&cgid=clothing-by-category-jackets#start=7&dwvar_14307BM-683_color=683&cgid=clothing-by-category-jackets ](https://www.bcbg.com/en/sophiana-faux-fur-jacket/14307BM-683.html?dwvar_14307BM-683_color=683&cgid=clothing-by-category-jackets#start=7&dwvar_14307BM-683_color=683&cgid=clothing-by-category-jackets)

Dress:[ https://www.bcbg.com/en/annmarie-cutout-asymmetrical-dress/XVR61H56-001.html ](https://www.bcbg.com/en/annmarie-cutout-asymmetrical-dress/XVR61H56-001.html)

Heels:[ https://www.dsw.com/en/us/product/bcbgeneration-henaya-pump/481328?activeColor=001 ](https://www.dsw.com/en/us/product/bcbgeneration-henaya-pump/481328?activeColor=001)

Clutch:[ https://www.bcbg.com/en/catarina-feather-trimmed-clutch/BMF18404-001.html?dwvar_BMF18404-001_color=001&cgid=accessories-bags#start=6&dwvar_BMF18404-001_color=001&cgid=accessories-bags ](https://www.bcbg.com/en/catarina-feather-trimmed-clutch/BMF18404-001.html?dwvar_BMF18404-001_color=001&cgid=accessories-bags#start=6&dwvar_BMF18404-001_color=001&cgid=accessories-bags)

* * *

By sunset, they were dressed and headed to dinner. Adrian looked stunning in a navy velvet satin-lapel dinner jacket by Armani. When she had asked about it, Adrian had revealed that Armani had actually sent it to him personally. Sypha was stunned at that, but then she remembered that Adrian was a real model. It probably wasn’t so strange for her. The black dress he gave her to wear was not something Sypha would typically wear, but she still liked it. It looked nice with the heels and the fur jacket from BCBG. She had styled her pixie cut, giving her short hair some volume on the top. And she put on lipstick and mascara because it was a special occasion. _I haven’t been to a fancy dinner in years. Maybe only a handful of times. And never this fancy._ Sypha could tell Adrian didn’t think anything of it. It was just a typical weekend dinner to him. When they arrived at La Grenouille, a white-gloved waiter showed them to their seat. Sypha had been in awe of beautiful interiors all day, but the restaurant still took her breath away. _Oh my god._

The dining area was one of the most romantic and beautiful rooms Sypha had ever seen. She gasped when they walked to their table. The whole room was glowing in shades of pink, red, and white. Ruby colored velvet booths flanked the room. The white-tableclothed tables bore elegant white, pink, and red bouquets and candles, making for a dreamlike and romantic aura. The damask wallpaper was light beige and white, but all the candles reflected the rosy colors onto the walls. Elegant gold-framed portraits and paintings captured the eye, as did the huge bouquets interspersed throughout. They were massive and almost brushed the ceiling. The ambiance was warm, sophisticated, and romantic. 

“It’s so beautiful in here,” she sighed, and Adrian nodded, pulling out her chair so that she could sit. 

“I thought you’d like it. That’s why I picked this place. It is lovely, isn’t it?” He smiled, sitting. Sypha tried not to bounce in her chair from excitement. 

“Thank you,” she added. _I would never, ever be able to afford this on my own._ A waiter approached them with menus.

“Good evening. My name Jean, I’ll be your server tonight. Would you like to see the wine list or the cocktail menu?” He looked between the two of them. Sypha shrugged.

“I think we’ll have a bottle of champagne. I’d like to start with oysters, so champagne would be best. What are your recommendations?” Adrian asked, placing the cloth napkin in his lap.

“I would recommend the Joseph Perrier Cuvee Royale, sir. It would pair best with the oysters.” The French waiter leaned forward and showed Adrian on the menu, but he didn’t even look at the price.

“Wonderful. We’ll take a bottle on ice. Two glasses, please. For the other appetizer let’s do the lobster medallions. And we’ll take the prix fixe menu.” He rattled off quickly, casually.

“Of course, sir. I’ll be right back,” the server inclined his head and walked away. Sypha made a face, eyebrow up. 

“Oysters?” 

Adrian chuckled, smirking.

“Have you ever had them before?” He asked.

“No.” _I have heard that they’re an aphrodisiac, but I’m not going to bring that up._

“Give them a try. They’re great with champagne. I think you’ll like them.” He relaxed comfortably in the chair, tucking some of his wavy blonde hair behind an ear. Adrian looked positively ethereal against the sumptuous background, blonde waves catching the warm candlelight. The smooth curves and sharp lines of his face looked supremely handsome in the low lighting, shadows, and highlights illuminating him from below. His gold eyes glittered from across the table, and Sypha let herself stare for a long time at him, soaking in his angelic beauty. 

His eyes sparkled like two shiny gold coins, but held much more emotion. He was much deeper than that. Noticing her gaze on him, he smiled coyly and she smiled back. Time seemed to stop for a moment and Sypha thought about their time together and how much he did to please her. All the kind things he said and did for her. Rarely had anyone shown such an interest in her life and acted so considerate and thoughtfully with her. Trevor did so too, but less frequently and less intensely. Adrian really was an unusual young man. In a good way. She supposed that he was sad, in his way, but the reasons weren’t all evident yet. She only had hints about what troubled him. Glimpses of his parents, his past, his future. It was all quite difficult to comprehend. And yet, Sypha wanted to know. She wanted to know him, and understand the complexities of a young man who was so clearly suffering on the inside, yet kind on the outside. It was almost as if he was from a time long past, a time of gentry and nobility. Fine graces and chivalry. He certainly seemed every bit the well mannered and magnanimous prince, complete with white-gloved attendants and velvet slippers. And she had never known someone like him.

“What is it?” Adrian startled, blushing after he noticed she had been staring at him thoughtfully for such a long time. Sypha felt a moment of confliction, something she rarely experienced. Her heart felt tight in her chest, and she searched for the right words.

“You’re- so beautiful, Adrian. Inside and out... I’m so happy that I met you. And I’m glad I’m here with you now,” she whispered, not wanting people at other tables to hear the words very dear to her heart. Adrian flushed, his face flickering from embarrassment to reflection and happiness. His perfect lips parted for a moment before he closed them, shifting forward and leaning over the table, candlelight dancing on his pale skin.

“I feel the same. Truthfully, I’ve wanted-” He began to say something beautiful, as he often did, but the server cut them off.

“Pardon me,” he excused himself, placing champagne glasses on the table and pouring the expensive drink for both of them. Then came the appetizers, one served in a large silver bowl filled with ice and topped with oysters and lemons. The other, a plate of lobster medallions and warm grapefruit, drizzled with sauce. _What was he going to say? He wanted to what? Take me out?_

“Cheers,” Adrian spoke up when the server left. Sypha smiled and raised her glass to clink with his.

“Cheers.”

The mood from before had been abruptly ruined by a plate of oysters shoved in their face, so they changed the subject. Sypha tried the oysters and the lobster, and she found them both entirely delicious.

“They’re so fresh,” she hummed, washing an oyster down with some champagne, feeling expensive. Adrian hummed, looking over the menu. Sypha followed suit, almost choking when she saw the price of the prix fixe dinner: $164 each, not including drinks. Her eyes went wide, and she looked to Adrian in pure shock. She had never seen such a price for a meal.

“What’s wrong?” He asked with a furrowed brow.

“ _Why is it so expensive?_ Is this per person?” She whispered quietly. Adrian scowled, looking down at the price.

“It’s not a bad price for a whole meal. This is a Michelin-rated restaurant,” he protested mildly, shaking his head, “It’s probably less than the bottle of champagne.” 

Sypha laughed, she couldn’t help it. _God, what would it be like to have his money? Not a bad price… Jesus. That’s insane._ When she laughed he looked back at the menu and sighed.

“I guess compared to a normal restaurant, it’s a bit much, yeah.” Sypha tried not to snort, making a face that got her point across.

“The price of this meal is what I spend on restaurant food in a whole year,” she whispered, so Adrian could understand the reality. He gave her a confused look.

“Seriously?” _Yes, rich boy._

“Seriously.” 

He looked guilty all of a sudden, shifting uncomfortably.

“Oh, I- I wouldn’t have guessed that. I didn’t know,” he seemed to seriously consider it for a moment, contemplating his own wealth.

“I eat at the cafeteria all the time for a reason. So does Trevor. You know most college students are broke, right? Maybe not so much at our school, but still,” she explained, taking another sip of champagne. 

“Right…” he drifted off, eyes averted and serious. _I probably just made him feel really guilty. Argh. He doesn’t deserve that. I saw him taking lots of food to the food shelf the first time I met him all on his own._

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make you feel bad, or guilty, or anything. I know you are a charitable person, I just-”

“It’s fine. You’re right, it is messed up,” he seemed serious. Sypha frowned.

“What is?”

“The wealth disparity. I forget about it sometimes because it’s my normal, but- I shouldn’t. I’m sorry if my comments are distasteful or out-of-touch with reality. I know I can be very quixotic.”

“Quixotic?” _What does that even mean?_

“Unrealistic. Romantic but not practical. Chimerical.”

“You have quite the vocabulary,” Sypha chuckled, “It’s alright, Adrian. It’s good to be imaginative and romantic. Ladies like that sort of thing. I’m sorry I started talking about money. I shouldn't have. Let’s just enjoy ourselves and change the subject.”

He nodded slowly, taking a bite of lobster and grapefruit.

“Why didn’t they card you when you got the bottle?” She whispered over the flower bouquet. Adrian shrugged.

“They don’t card in places like this. Not when the drinks are in this price range.”

_Interesting. So rich kids can just get alcohol whenever they want._

"So, when we go out tonight, you just get let into the bars? No one cares?” She wondered, reaching for another oyster. Adrian smirked devilishly. 

“You’ll see my ways. What do you want to order for your entree?”

She looked at the menu. Foie gras, escargot, chicken, fish.

“The chicken or the duck, maybe? What about you?”

“The chicken here is good. But I think I’ll get the grilled Dover Sole.”

They conversed amicably throughout the meal, vintage french jazz playing overhead and blending with the sounds of conversation through the fancy restaurant. Discussion ranged from Trevor’s antics, to school professors, to the idea of seeing Hamilton together, something Sypha was very excited about. The meal was decadent, fresh, and ambrosial. By the time their dessert arrived, they were almost done with the bottle of champagne, and feeling a definite buzz. They both laughed freely at another’s jokes. Sypha was discovering that Adrian could do wonderful impressions, something the wholly enjoyed. He was just starting his impression of Jack Nickelson when the server brought their dessert.

“Oh, it looks so good,” she hummed, pretty full but ready to devour the chocolate tart placed before them.

“It does,” he handed her a spoon, “here.” They shared the dessert happily, making delighted noises. Sypha watched Adrian finish his glass of champagne. He tilted the empty bottle over with his hand. 

“Well, that’s the end of it. Thank god for private drivers.” Sypha giggled.

“Have you ever ridden the subway?” She wondered. He nodded, scowling.

“Yeah, of course. That’s where all the fun is.”

Sypha hiccuped a little, tilting her head. “What?” 

“Well, by fun I mean vicious cannibal rats eating everything in sight and terrible dance performances that are practically on your lap,” he snorted, and Sypha laughed.

“Ew. Cannibal rats,” she complained, scrunching up her nose in distaste. 

“Sorry,” he chuckled, taking a bite of the tasty dessert.

“So, what are we doing next?” 

“We’re going to bar-hop a little. Go to some different areas of the city. I know a good place to start: The Blond. In Soho. Later we can go to a club or two.”

“Yay! Sounds great. I’m excited!” Sypha beamed, excited to see the city alive and full of energy. Adrian paid the check with a flourish and they went outside to wait for the driver to get them. It had rained briefly during dinner and so the city streets were still slick and shiny. Light from the stores and restaurants illuminated the roads. They waited on the corner of 5th Avenue and West 52nd Street, across from the lavish Cartier store. Sypha peered over at the shiny rings and glittering diamonds on display while Adrian lit a cigarette. She watched him bring it to his lips, entranced by his elegance and effortless grace.

“So, do you do this a lot? Take girls out for a fancy dinner and drinks in the city?” She flirted, head tilted to the side, stepping in close to him. Adrian took a drag, looking her over. Sypha looked very pretty in her strawberry blonde pixie cut and dangly earrings. Her bright blue eyes shined with her flirtation and cheerful nature, something Adrian fully enjoyed.

“No, no I don’t. I don’t go on dates that often at all. You’re the first person I’ve taken on a date in a long while,” he answered honestly, his head swimming a little from the champagne. He leaned against a street light. Sypha made a face.

“Wait, so this _is_ a real date?” She asked, stepping in even closer. Adrian looked at her for a moment, scowling in confusion.

“Earlier, you said this didn’t count as a date,” Sypha explained.

“When did I say that?” Adrian asked.

“At breakfast. You said that today doesn’t count as a date.” _Right?_

Adrian huffed, shaking his head in the negative.

“Oh, no I- I just meant the wedding brunch didn’t count. Because my parents were there, you know? And I wanted my mom to stop prying,” he explained, exhaling smoke over his shoulder. They were standing very close together. Sypha locked eyes with him, serious all of a sudden, thinking about it.

“So, tonight- is this our first date, then?”

Adrian paused. He tapped his 

“I’d like it to be... Would you?”

Sypha’s mind went to Trevor instantly. _What would he think? Will he be mad at me for dating Adrian?_ Sypha went it over in her head. Suddenly she reassured herself the thoughts were ridiculous. They had never even kissed or flirted, really. He had never told her he liked her. He had never asked her out. Trevor always slept around, something he didn’t try to hide. It had been over a year. If Trevor wanted to be with her he would have asked or made a move, she thought. She had waited long enough. It was stupid not to date Adrian just because of her girlish crush on Trevor that never amounted to anything.

“Yes,” she smiled, already decided. Adrian’s eyes lit up, his chest rising and falling in excitement. His smile stayed for a while. 

“Can I?” She asked, looking at the cigarette in his hand. Adrian handed it over and Sypha took a drag herself, lips curved in a smile around the cigarette. As they waited for the car together they took turns smoking and Adrian wrapped his arm around her waist comfortably.

[Sypha]

7:11 pm (Trevor) What’s up Sypha? Are you guys up to anything fun??

8:47 pm (Trevor) ok be like that, ignoring me… im sure youre having a great time but you promised to send pics, remember? Of the city and everything? I'm bored...

[a.tepes]

8:56 pm (trevor.belmont) Hey, how’s it going in the Big Apple?

8:59 pm (trevor.belmont) what are you and sypha up to tonight

Trevor stared up at the ceiling, gritting his teeth as he studied the white and grey speckled squares above him. He looked at his phone. 9:33 pm. No answers yet. No one cared. The jealousy in the pit of his stomach made him want to throw up, but he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He didn’t have an appetite. _Maybe they’re just busy. Yeah, really busy. Taking showers or something. At. the. same. time. Argh, no! No, of course not. It’s not a real date, right? It’s just a wedding date, that’s not a real date. Right?_

At practice that evening Trevor had found it hard to focus, missing goals that were easy for him and getting the passive-aggressive treatment from his coach. His performance was suffering because he just couldn’t stop thinking and feeling and going over every possibility in his head. The more he tried to push the thoughts away, the worse they came back. _Are they having fun without me? Are they forgetting about me? Do they even like me? Will Sypha forget about me and date Adrian? Did I screw up? I should have said something. I should have done something. I should have told Sypha I like her. Or Adrian. Or something. Not this. Doing nothing was so fucking stupid. Why did I do this? I’m so fucking stupid! Why didn’t I say anything? I could have told Sypha I liked her before she left. I could have told her. Or him. I shouldn’t have yelled at him. Jesus! I made fun of being gay, how rich. I can’t stand this. I should have told him in the bathroom that I liked him instead of making him cry. I’m such an asshole. No wonder I’m alone. I deserve to be alone._

Trevor was by himself in his dorm room. His roommate, of course, was at his girlfriend’s place. It seemed that everyone had a girlfriend or a boyfriend but him all of a sudden. His teammates, his classmates, his friends. Trevor hated that. Over the course of the night, his mind had dodged in many different directions. He tried to tell himself he was just overreacting, and there was nothing to worry about. And they would come back from the city and everything would be fine. But the heart seldom listens to the mind. And his heart was still aching. He got off his bed, trying to do something. Anything to distract his mind. Earlier, he had tried to watch Youtube, but he was too distracted to pay attention so he just turned it off. 

The items on his desk were exemplary of his night so far: a crushed beer can, an empty bag of Doritos, a torn-up pair of movie tickets, and a half-drunk can of Four Loko. He knew it was a shitty drink, but it was cheap and got him drunk easy enough. The torn-up movie stubs were ripped in a moment of fury. After practice, he came back to his room and checked to see if Sypha or Adrian had put anything up on Instagram. Adrian hadn’t, but Sypha had put a picture up on her story: a beautiful picture of her standing next to Adrian in front of the Rockefeller Ice Skating rink. They were both smiling in the picture, eyes bright and happy, but what caught Trevor’s attention was how close they were. Sypha was taking the selfie, but Adrian was obviously very close to her, his arm around her waist. They looked like a couple in the photo. A beautiful, perfect couple. The only other addition was a GIF that said “Manhattan” which didn’t provide much context. When Trevor saw it he almost screamed. What enraged him so much was how perfect they seemed together. He had been sitting at his desk when he found them, and when he saw the three movie tickets for Black Panther out of the corner of his eye, he ripped them up. His worthless attempt at getting them a gift.

They had been $37 altogether with taxes, which was a very luxurious purchase for him. He never would have spent so much usually but he wanted to make nice. He wanted to make them happy. They had been talking about seeing the movie a week before and so he went to the ticket office and splurged, just to please them. And then they had taken off on a romantic getaway to Manhattan without him, and he knew it would sound silly to complain about them missing the movie, so he said nothing. Sypha would insist on paying him back because she knew how broke he was and he couldn't take that. He couldn’t take her pity. But after thinking about the picture on her story, he wondered if he would prefer pity to being flat-out ignored. She was going on her phone, but neither of them was texting him back. _Fuck._

He picked up the half-drunken peach Four Loko and chugged the rest, wanting to be drunk as soon as possible and have his mind go black. He wanted to drown out the thoughts in his mind. After burping crudely he crumpled the empty can in his palm, chucking it in the general direction of the trash can. Throughout the night Trevor kept obsessively checking his phone as if he wasn’t able to hear it ding in his silent, lonely dorm room. He felt stupid, alone, pathetic, and ignored. It hurt. It hurt a lot, for reasons that didn't make sense to him yet.

_Why aren’t they answering their phones? They always do. Sypha always texts back. She always texts back. What are they doing that they can’t just text me back? And Adrian goes on his phone all the time. Why not tonight?_

He pulled out his laptop and absently searched the web, but after a while, he couldn't help himself. He went back on Instagram to see if they had posted something. Nothing. But then he was on Adrian’s page and he couldn’t stop himself from looking at the pictures. And looking. And looking. Then, at Sypha’s. He went back onto messenger and stared at the screen as if that would summon them to respond.

 _You can’t text someone three times in a row with no response. That’s just desperate and pathetic._ _It shows you have nothing else to do but worry about them texting you back._ And yet he did. He needed it so badly for some reason, even though it didn’t make any logical sense. He could feel it somewhere in his heart, this nagging feeling that he wasn’t important anymore. That she didn’t love him anymore, not even as a friend. That Adrian was all she cared about and she just wanted to talk to him and kiss him and cuddle with him. It was outrageous to think she didn’t care about him anymore after literally a day of being away but the feelings gnawed at his heart, anxiety stirring in his mind. 

And he hated himself for yelling at Adrian, and making fun of him. He hated himself for not telling the truth, and for lying about not being bisexual. Trevor went over their conversations in his head again and again. He wondered if he had hurt Adrian so much he was still angry inside. Maybe not. Trevor groaned out loud because he knew he was overthinking it. They were probably just really distracted, it was no big deal. 

_Are they at a show or something? Or a place where they can’t use their phones? Maybe they’re just having a good conversation. Or food. Maybe it’s nothing, right? Or maybe..._

_Maybe they’re having sex..._

_Maybe they’re having sex._

In the isolation of his dorm room, Trevor broke down in tears, the gut-wrenching feeling of jealousy tearing him apart. He grabbed his pillow angrily and smashed his face into it, writhing on the bed as the sob ripped through him. He couldn’t stand losing Sypha, but losing both of them... _fuck_. _Fuck!_

He hated himself for crying over something so stupid, so insignificant in reality. He had no proof. All they had done was not answer him for a few hours. It didn't make sense to be so upset, but still. He couldn't help but wonder. Trevor bit his lip harshly, breathing deeply, trying to get himself to stop crying. _Ah! Stop it! So they’re having fun without me? What does it even matter? They’ll be back. And we’ll still be friends. Why am I overreacting this much? It’s ridiculous._ He tried to calm himself down, breathing in and out, but after a while, he couldn’t help it. A tear escaped, running down his cheek. He dug his nails into his palms but it didn’t help. And he cried, wet streaks running down his face as he tried desperately to wipe them away. The drinks didn’t help. The rationalization didn’t work either, because deep down he could feel it. He felt like they had just cut him out.

* * *

After they were comfortably seated in the car on the way to the first bar, Adrian told Sypha he was going to get them a reservation to the Top of the Standard, the club with the best views in the city. They would go a little later. Sypha listened in as he made the call, interested to know what this secret trick was the let him get in anywhere.

“Hi. I’d like to reserve a table for tonight at ten-thirty,” he started, using a voice a little deeper than his usual, “There’s- three of us. We’d like seating by the window.”

“I’m sorry, but we aren’t taking any more reservations,” Sypha heard the hostess reply on the other side of the phone.

“Oh, I’m sure you can find the room. Surely someone won’t make it, anyway. I have a credit card to hold the table. The name is Vlad Dracula Tepes. Are you ready to take down the number?” Sypha made a face at him. How did he get away with lying like that?

“Oh, Mr. - _Mr. Tepes_! Yes, of course, sir. We - here, ah, it seems we do have one table left. It can hold a party of three. What’s the number on the card, Mr. Tepes?” She hostess stumbled, clearly making an exception for him.

“0317…” Sypha rolled her eyes when she saw that the card in his hand really was his Dad’s. 

“Thank you. I’ve reserved a table for you by the window.”

“I’d like you to put my son and his girlfriend on the list. They’ll be arriving ahead of me. Write down their names… Adrian Tepes and Sypha Belnades. That’s b-e-l-n-a-d-e-s. Yes. Thank you.” He hung up the phone, looking downright smug about it, a twinkle in his gold eyes.

“See?” He mused impishly.

“Very impressive,” she chuckled, “Do you do that a lot?” She wondered what else he could get away with.

“Nah. I don’t usually need to. I just forgot to get us a reservation. And this way they won’t card me. I’ll just tip them and we’ll get in.”

“I’m excited to go cause I just turned twenty-one. I’m excited to go to real clubs now!” 

“I don’t usually enjoy them that much. But you’re with me, so,” his cheeks warmed a little, “it should be great.” When he locked eyes with her again she noticed the dusting of pink on his cheeks. _He’s so cute. Fuck._

Before they went to The Blonde, Adrian showed her the area of Soho and she agreed that the area was very nice. From the unique white cast-iron architecture of the buildings to the clean pebbled streets and posh shops, everything was stylish. It suited Adrian very well, she thought. Soon they were seated in the dark lounge, which was still relatively calm. The evening nightlife rush hadn’t quite begun, and there was a comfortable noise level for talking. The duo sat on the curved navy velvet booths that felt very luxurious. Sypha felt very expensive sitting in her designer black dress and heels, taking in Adrian’s lovely face in the near-darkness. The room was dark save for dim lights on the back of the booths and the bar’s recessed lighting on the other side. A waitress in a black lace dress approached them.

“Hello. What can I get for you two?”

“A cosmopolitan for me, thanks,” Sypha answered. Adrian looked over the menu.

“I’d like to have the ‘Strawberry Blonde’ please,” He requested, a faint smirk on his face. _Oh my God._ He handed the menu back to the server, who nodded and walked off. Sypha started giggling at the implication, a smile pulling at her lips. The liquor numbed her, and she laughed obviously at the pun. Adrian began laughing too, first deeply in his throat, and then fully, the sound rich in the air. They were already a bit drunk, and Sypha was sure he had done that on purpose. 

“I’m sure you would,” Sypha flirted, playing footsie with him under the table and prodding his leg with her toe. Adrian looked to her and his laughter calmed. She shifted closer, tilting her head over, giving him easy access if he wanted to kiss her. He looked so handsome sitting there in his element, casually elegant. She was a little too drunk to realize that she really wanted him to kiss her. When he didn’t, she leaned forward on her arm and bumped shoulders with him playfully, but Adrian didn’t respond much. He only let out a nervous chuckle and straightened his posture. She pulled away, her smile fading. _Maybe that was a bit too forward. Oops._ But then she saw that the waitress was approaching them.

“Here you are.” She muttered, placing their drinks in front of them. Sypha picked up her martini glass, tipping back some of the pink alcohol greedily. She noticed Adrian was just staring at his drink, trying to look casual and failing. She took out her phone in the awkward silence.

[treffi}

7:11 pm (Trevor) What’s up Sypha? Are you guys up to anything fun??

8:47 pm (Trevor) ok be like that, ignoring me… im sure youre having a great time but you promised to send pics, remember? Of the city and everything? Im bored

Sypha huffed and took a picture of the swanky bar lounge. She sent it.

9:43 pm (Sypha) hey treffi

9:44 pm (Sypha) we’re at this bar. It’s pretty fancy. I’m wearing heels, can you believe it? 

9:44 pm (Trevor) cool. Have fun with Prince Pouty. I miss you 

Sypha smiled at that, and Adrian noticed.

“What is it?” He asked, glancing down at her phone. Sypha looked up at him and put her phone back in her clutch.

“That was Trevor saying he misses us.”

“Oh,” he huffed, “Both of us?” He raised a brow. Sypha shrugged, taking another sip.

“Yeah, I think. You know he actually likes you, right? He just pretends he doesn’t sometimes.”

“Yeah. But he has his moods. Sometimes he’s nice, sometimes he’s mean,” Adrian commented, playing with his straw.

“Mm. He’s a drama queen sometimes, but he’s a nice person deep down. Really,” she thought. Adrian said nothing. He just nodded, and the conversation shifted. Soon, they were off in the Mercedes and on to the next place. The Standard Hotel in the Meatpacking district, a new and trendy area of the city. The infamous Boom Boom Room was located at the top, glowing red and orange, as Sypha noticed when they walked into the building. When they reached the top floor, Adrian took her hand and walked to the front of the line, confidently approaching the bouncer.

“Do you have a reservation?” He grunted.

“Yes. I’m Adrian Tepes, my dad called about a table. This is my date, Sypha Belnades, she should be on the list too.” A few skinny celebrity wannabes at the front of the line whispered when they heard the name Tepes, looking at Sypha like vultures. Adrian wrapped his arm around Sypha and she felt glad at the touch. It grounded her in what felt like a foreign dream. The bouncer looked on the tablet and nodded silently when he saw their names, letting them walk in after being tipped handsomely. 

The Top of the Standard was a beautiful place. Sypha was overwhelmed by being in so many beautiful places. It was a club with a sophisticated, exclusive vibe. She wouldn’t have been surprised to see a sign that said ‘Celebrities Only’ on the wall somewhere. But it was decently full of rich-looking people mingling and dancing. The room itself was wonderful to take in. A massive column curved wider towards the high ceiling. It glowed red-orange by internal lights illuminating its many ridges. The massive architectural structure made the room an impressive sight to behold. The bar was structured around it in a circle, and attractive bartenders mixed martinis and cocktails. Two-story windows on all sides gave the most amazing view of the city Sypha had ever seen. They went to the bar and looked at the drink menu. The music overhead was distinctly rich somehow, the synthetic electronic beats and heavy bass making Sypha feel unusually good. 

“I’ll have an aviation cocktail,” he spoke up over the music. A stylish bartender smiled and looked to Sypha.

“A Hemingway Daiquiri for me, please,” Sypha smiled at the handsome bartender and they waited for their drinks at the sleek bar. People filtered around them, dancing and talking.

“Is this a place for celebrities?” She asked quietly. Mi Gente played overhead, the bass filling the room. The fast electronic beat on repeat.

_Toda mi gente se mueve_

_Mira el ritmo cómo los tiene_

_Hago música que entretiene_

_Mi música los tiene fuerte bailando y se baila así_

_Estamos rompiendo la discoteca_

_La fiesta no para, apenas comienza_

_C'est comme-çi_

_C'est comme-ça_

_Ma chérie_

“Yeah. It is. Let me see if I know anyone,” he mused, turning around and looking over the club.

“Ah, there’s Alica Keys,” he muttered, and Sypha snapped to look for her. She was in the corner at a small table, with a slicked-back ponytail and big earrings, sans makeup, per usual.

“Oh Dios mío. La amo tanto. (Oh my God. I love her so much),” Sypha wheezed breathlessly. Adrian chuckled.

“She’s a great singer.”

“Yes! Oh my god,” she repeated, looking between Adrian and her. “Would it be inappropriate to go up to her and ask for a picture?”

Adrian pursed his lips.

“Ah. Yeah, she’s busy talking to someone. And you’re drunk, Sypha,” he pointed out laughing as they took their cocktails and went to the reserved table, right by the window.

“You’re right... She’s so pretty in real life.”

“So are you,” he rebutted, and Sypha smiled.

“Thanks… I wonder what Trevor would think of this place,” Sypha muttered, looking around at the amazing city views and elegant atmosphere. 

“Hm,” Adrian chuckled, “I don’t think he’d ever go to a place this nice. I think Trevor would be in Hell’s Kitchen at a dive bar.” Sypha chuckled, fully tipsy.

“That sounds fun, too. He plays darts when he’s drunk. And then he gets in fistfights. He’s pretty entertaining to go out to bars with.”

“Oh god, that’s a recipe for disaster,” Adrian groaned. The floor to ceiling views were unparalleled, Sypha thought, and she loved staring at everything. And staring at Adrian as he explained the sights and different areas visible below. He was so beautiful. Even prettier than the view, with his blonde hair reflecting the warm orange lights. They sipped cocktails and talked of many things over the pulsating music. Music, college, and Hamilton.

“People nowadays have all these stupid beliefs about the founding fathers. They think that they were these perfect, immortal gods who were always serious and stiff. Not true! They were real men... And they were weird,” Sypha joked, making a face. Adrian laughed as she so animatedly explained history to him.

“Weird how?” He raised a brow, taking a sip of his cocktail. 

“Ben Franklin would walk around his house in the morning stark naked. He called it an ‘air bath’ and pretended it was hygiene,” she giggled drunkenly. She had already had too much to drink, her head swaying slightly as she sat upright to get closer to Adrian, who was laughing heartily. No one around noticed. They were all too engrossed in their own conversations.

“Wow. That's- gross.”

“And Thomas Jefferson ate so much mac and cheese at cabinet meetings that the other members passed a rule that no one could eat during meetings,” she continued, chuckling. Adrian tipped his head back, shoulders shaking in laughter. 

“No, really? That’s so weird.”

“See! I told you. And they weren’t angels. They were real. There’s a real Washington quote where he says ‘shift that fat ass Harry, but slowly, or you’ll swamp the damned boat.’” They were both done for at that, laughing for over a minute. Sypha felt deeply happy. She was really having fun. Everything was going right for once. No school pressures, no drama. Just drinking and laughter. She felt so good, with the electronic pop music in her head and the liquor flowing through her veins.

“Come on, let’s dance,” stood suddenly, grabbing Adrian’s hand and leading him to dance with her. They moved through the crowd easily enough, finding a spot to dance that wasn’t completely packed. She moved instantly, delighting in the fast beat and finding the rhythm quickly. They fell into the movements easily, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He smiled down at her, hands on her waist. They both felt happy, unencumbered, and free. For Adrian, it was a much rarer emotion. Sypha was almost surprised to see Adrian come out of his shell, twirling her around and dancing freely, elegantly. She smiled widely.

“You’re a good dancer!” She complimented over the heavy beat. He smirked handsomely. 

“So are you.” 

She loved seeing him happy, energetic. He became beautiful in a different way, because he came alive. Usually, he was so reserved, so serious. Even his smiles and laughs were measured and perfect. But in the heat of the moment, their warm bodies moving together, he came undone and finally relaxed. Maybe it was just the alcohol in his body, she mused, thinking back on their dancing session on his kitchen counter. Regardless, she wanted to see that side of him more. Free of the inhibitions that usually plagued him. She turned around and took his hands, placing them on her waist.

MIA by Bad Bunny blared overhead, and Sypha delighted in the Spanish, singing along. She moved her body to the fast musical beat, swaying her body along with Adrian’s. The beat filled her heart, her soul, drowning everything out for a moment. 

_Porque todos te quieren probar (ah)_

_Lo que no saben es que no te dejas llevar de cualquiera_

_Y todos te quieren probar (nah)_

_Lo que no saben es que hoy yo te voy a buscar (yeh-yeh)_

She let her eyes close and turned around enjoying the feeling of Adrian’s warm, hard body behind her. His hands on her waist. Letting the beat overwhelm her was relaxing, and her mind numbed blissfully under the thumping beat of the bass. 

_Dile que tú eres mía, mía_

_Tú sabes que eres mía, mía_

_Tú misma lo decías_

_Cuando yo te lo hacía_

_yeh, dile que tú eres mía, mía_

_Tú sabes que eres mía, mía_

_Tú misma lo decías_

_Cuando yo te lo hacía_

_Yeh yeh yeh yeh_

They began dancing closer, body to body. It felt sensual and calming at the same time. And any premonitions were out the door given her drunken state, so she thought it was nothing to turn around, draw him closer, and play with his hair. They swayed softly to the beat, lost in the crowd as she tucked a golden lock behind an ear. When she looked up he was close. Incredibly close. In the warm lights of the club, his eyes really glowed like coals on the fire. Melted gold. She got lost in them, and before she knew it, she was leaning in, and he kissed her in earnest.

Sypha loved the feeling. She sunk into the kiss and no one cared given the club environment around them. His lips were warm and wet against hers. She threaded her hands in his hair and moved against him, leaving wet kisses on his impossibly perfect lips which he returned in earnest. He moaned faintly as she ran her tongue against his lips and tasted him, her tongue brushing against his. He tasted like aviation cocktails and cigarettes. Sypha realized that she liked that. She liked him. This mystery friend who took her to new places and kissed her passionately on an impromptu adventure to Manhattan. When they finally parted, she leaned back a little, looking at his expression. He was flushed, and after looking down at her kiss bitten lips, he smiled. It was a wonderful, perfect smile with teeth. The kind that made his eyes crinkle and let her know that he had wanted to kiss her for a long time. She returned the contented smile, and then they were dancing again, moving smoothly with each other. Comfortable, lost somewhere between their pleasure and the beat.

An hour or so passed, and when Adrian said they were going to go to the last place, Sypha took a trip to the ladies room. After she fixed herself up a bit by the mirrors, reaching into the clutch to reapply her lipstick and then fixing her short strawberry blonde hair. Her cheeks were still pretty flushed from dancing. _And Adrian’s delicious kisses._ It was hard to keep up with her thoughts when she was drunk, she didn’t bother. Sypha enjoyed living in the moment, and letting go. All her mediation and mindfulness training let her enjoy things without overthinking. Suddenly a tall, curvy woman fixing her makeup in the mirror beside her turned in her direction.

“Hey, this is out of nowhere but you and the guy that you're with, you’re both gorgeous,” a stranger commented, turning back to apply her lipstick at the next mirror. _Wow._ Sypha smiled.

“Thank you.” 

“Are you a couple?” The stranger pried. _People here are really forward._

“Uh, we’re on a date,” she shrugged, closing her clutch. It felt strange to say because it was Adrian. They had just passed that barrier from friends to more than friends.

“Do you know- is he a model? Or open to modeling? I’m with a recruiting agency,” she explained, meeting Sypha’s gaze. She blinked.

“Oh. He’s - already signed with IMG Models,” Sypha explained a little awkwardly, finding it strange to say that about a date. Her date was a model. With IMG. The strange woman raised her eyebrows.

“Oh my god! Nevermind, then. Sorry. Enjoy your night,” the stranger excused herself. 

“You too,” she returned, but she felt strange all of a sudden. As she went with Adrian into the elevator, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Not horribly. She supposed it was just the sudden change of situation, and the new chemistry with Adrian. And the drinking. When they were back on the street level, in front of the hotel, Adrian explained that he let the driver go home earlier. So he ordered an Uber to pick them up.

“It’ll be ten minutes. Sorry for the wait. Are you cold?” He asked, wrapping his arms around her. It was dark outside beside the lights of the buildings and the cars.

“A little. I’m alright.” She liked the feeling of his arms around her, but there was still something off. Something she was too drunk to understand. Adrian tilted her chin so she had to look up at him. After a moment he leaned down and kissed her rose-bud lips. She accepted the kiss he gave her, but after a while she drew away from him, looking down at his chest instead. Adrian scowled when she did, finding her expression off.

“What?” he worried, searching her face, “Is something wrong?”

“No, it - it was really nice. I just, I don’t know, I feel strange somehow. Sorry.” She shook her head, and Adrian let her out of his arms. 

“Are you dizzy or something? Maybe you drank too much.”

“It’s not that. I- I like you, but I just wasn’t expecting any of this. It’s all really sudden. Everything... I guess I’m overwhelmed.” She tried to explain her emotions as best as she could, which was hard given she was drunk and she didn’t understand her emotions herself. She wobbled a bit on her heels. Adrian nodded slowly, putting his hands in his coat pockets. 

“...Okay. Uh- do - do you not want me to kiss you, Sypha?” His eyes looked sad again, and Sypha hated that. _Argh._

“I like kissing you. It’s not that. I-” _I don’t know._ She didn’t really know what to say. Adrian was scowling at her pained and confused expression.

“Are you involved with someone?” He asked.

“No.”

After a tense pause, she turned back to him. Adrian was looking out at the city streets, intense seriousness washing over his beautiful features. He was clenching his jaw. After a while he turned to meet her eyes.

“... _It’s because I’m bi, isn’t it_?” 

His words were heavy. Serious. They carried weight. It was something he was used to dealing with, something that made his skin crawl. And the words hit Sypha like a brick. He sounded so solemn, so defeated. She exhaled harshly and stepped in.

“No! Of course not-” Adrian cut her off before she could protest more.

“Because I know lots of women, even liberal women, would never date me because I’m bi. Most women. They think it’s gross. Not that I’ve ever slept with a guy anyway, but I suppose just the idea of it is enough to send them running.” He lamented, eyes fixed on the city again, hands clenched in his pockets. Sypha scowled deeply. _I’m not like that._ When he wouldn’t look at her, she grabbed his face and turned him to face her.

“Adrian, that’s not me! I don’t mind that you’re bi. It’s not a problem. I promise!” She insisted. Adrian wasn’t convinced yet.

“A lot of people think I’m good enough to make out with but not good enough to date. This happens to me all the time,” he continued, eyes full of pain and anguish. Sypha huffed, pulling her short coat closer.

“I’m telling you, that’s not me. I swear!” She insisted.

“So what is it?” Adrian snapped, quite reluctant to believe that wasn’t the reason. Sypha sighed deeply, biting her lip and shivering slightly.

“I dunno. I’m drunk! I think- I think maybe it’s cause of Trevor.”

“Trevor?” Adrian whipped his head around, surprised at first. But then, when he understood, he sighed.

“Are you sleeping with him?” 

“No, no. Nothing like that. I had a crush on him for a while, and - it’s complicated.”

“Do you still like him?”

“Uh- I - a little. But not like I used to, because nothing ever happened between us. But still, I feel- I don’t know. I feel guilty or something. Like he would be hurt.”

Adrian considered her words.

“So you're not dating, and you’re not sleeping together, but he still gets to have a say in your dating life? Why?” He challenged, blonde hair blowing in the winter breeze. A police siren went off in the distance, and then an ambulance, loud and obnoxious.

“Well, I don’t know- I think he would be mad. Maybe he likes me. I’m not sure. It’s complicated, Adrian, I’m sorry.” She didn’t want him to be angry with her.

“If he liked you and he was serious about it, don’t you think he would have said something by now?” Sypha internally cringed at that. He wasn’t wrong.

“Probably,” she concluded. Another breeze came past and she shivered a little more, bouncing on her heels.

“Then what’s the point of feeling guilty? He never made a move. He hasn’t asked you out. It’s been a year. Why the hell are you waiting for him?” Adrian challenged icily. He was clearly very angry. In the back of her mind Sypha realized he had probably been turned down a lot in the past. There had to be reasons why he was still a virgin in college. Sypha let out a noise of frustration.

“Why are you waiting for him?” Adrian repeated, calmer this time. 

She could tell he was serious about it. Serious about wanting to date her. And Trevor certainly wasn’t. She looked at the cars whirring by. Adrian was right. She cared about Trevor, but he was a potty-mouthed drunk who didn’t know how to act. She liked being around him, but after a year nothing had happened between them and she didn’t expect anything to happen soon. He was busy screwing Tinder dates or going on ridiculous rants. He had anger issues, and alcoholic tendencies, and trauma that he never dealt with. He _could_ be mean. Adrian was right. Sypha just looked past his meanness most of the time because of his background, and what he had been through. But Adrian wasn’t like that. He was level headed and sweet. He didn’t punch people in the face in drunken brawls. He was gorgeous, and kind, and interesting. Plus, he actually had the desire and the bravery to ask her out.

“Yeah. You’re right... I’m sorry.” She whimpered, feeling guilty that she was making him upset for nothing. Trevor wasn’t her boyfriend. He was just a friend. She didn’t need to feel that way. Adrian scowled again, touching her shoulder, empathetic after his outburst.

“You don’t need to be sorry. I just don’t understand why you feel guilty.”

_Because he might be angry with me for dating you. Argh. But I can’t just wait around forever for Trevor to grow up. That’s dumb._

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be guilty,” she assured herself, regardless, “And I like you, Adrian, I really do.” She leaned in, wrapping her arms around his neck. He held her closely, gloved hands on her waist.

“I like you too. I’m sorry if I yelled,” he apologized.

“It’s alright. I needed to hear it.”

Adrian reached up to touch her cheek and hair lovingly, smoothing it down in the cold breeze. Sypha got lost in his expression again, his depth. 

“Do you want to date me?” She asked abruptly, blue eyes sparkling. Adrian knew the answer in an instant.

“Yes, I do.” He didn’t falter. He was sure of it. _He likes me and he wants to date me. That’s what I need. He’s what I need. What I want._

Sypha thought deeply for a moment, best as she could in her drunken state. “Okay,” she answered, looking up, into the deep pools of his golden eyes, “I’d like that.”

His expression softened immediately and then he practically started to glow.

“Really?” Adrian asked. A smile started to pull on his lips. Sypha wrapped her arms around his neck. He was a lot taller.

“Yes, I’ll date you,” she smiled as he leaned down, resting his forehead on hers. They shared an intimate moment, and Sypha caressed his neck and ran her fingers through his hair. She scowled when he suddenly straightened and looked over her shoulder.

“Oh. The Uber’s here.” He pulled away from her as the sleek car came up to the curb. They slid into the backseat and the car merged into traffic. The driver didn’t even address them, or at least they couldn’t hear him over the heavy Spanish hip hop music. New York City didn’t die down in the night, it only changed moods. The streets were full of cars and people walking from bar to bar. The electric lights blared against the dark building and skies, making for a strange contrast of black and white. When Sypha turned from the window, Adrian was still smiling, eyes meeting hers. She blushed and scooted closer. When they turned onto 8th Ave, Adrian cupped her cheek and kissed her passionately. Sypha sighed into the kiss, slipping her hands under his coat, feeling the warmth of his broad chest. The heavy bass and the music of the car, punctuated by the occasional honks of traffic outside all blurred together until she focused only on him. On the feeling flowing through her veins. The energy, the excitement, and the lust. 

She tilted her head back and let him kiss her neck, determined to enjoy him fully and forget that Trevor was ever the object of her affection. In her intoxicated state, a blurry thought emerged. She should be with someone who liked her and treated her the way she really wanted. She owed herself that much. Somewhere between 8th Ave and 34th street, she lost all focus, and any logical thought drifted away. There was only Adrian, and the night, and the warm feeling of his body against hers. Everything else seemed inconsequential.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Please review! Thanks. 
> 
> I'm a New Yorker and naturally, I incorporated some of these experiences I've had with the city. I like clubbing in the city, obviously, I won't be doing that any time soon, but anyway... It's fun. I miss it!
> 
> Sorry this took a while. This chapter was really hard to write. The editing was a big challenge for some reason. So many difficult and conflicting emotions, I suppose. Sypha was hard to write here, but I think it's realistic to go out with someone while also struggling with feelings for another person that you've never been with. I didn't realize until after I wrote this that I was writing a different version of my own experiences. It can be very confusing.


	14. The New Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio adjusts to changes and grows closer together.

**CHAPTER 14: The New Normal**

* * *

Adrian’s Outfit:

-Alexander McQueen Sweatshirt

[ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/alexander-mcqueen-floral-logo-embroidered-sweatshirt-item-14528090.aspx?storeid=9728 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/alexander-mcqueen-floral-logo-embroidered-sweatshirt-item-14528090.aspx?storeid=9728)

-Givenchy Parka Coat  [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/givenchy-logo-print-parka-jacket-item-14144012.aspx ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/givenchy-logo-print-parka-jacket-item-14144012.aspx)

-Givenchy Derby Shoes 

[ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/givenchy-ridged-sole-derby-shoes-item-14147649.aspx ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/givenchy-ridged-sole-derby-shoes-item-14147649.aspx)

-Saint Laurent Jeans

[ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/saint-laurent-mid-rise-skinny-jeans-item-14570559.aspx ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/saint-laurent-mid-rise-skinny-jeans-item-14570559.aspx)

Wallet  [ https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/saint-laurent-studded-leather-wallet-on-chain/product/0400011831315?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306646893&R=190617507785&P_name=Saint+Laurent&N=306646893&bmUID=netZP72 ](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/saint-laurent-studded-leather-wallet-on-chain/product/0400011831315?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306646893&R=190617507785&P_name=Saint+Laurent&N=306646893&bmUID=netZP72)

Rings: 

-Alexander McQueen skulls  [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/alexander-mcqueen-skull-head-ring-item-13523120.aspx?storeid=9359 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/alexander-mcqueen-skull-head-ring-item-13523120.aspx?storeid=9359)

-Gucci Latin Ring  [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/gucci-engraved-heart-ring-item-15170466.aspx?storeid=10644 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/gucci-engraved-heart-ring-item-15170466.aspx?storeid=10644)

-Feather ring  [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/nialaya-jewelry-feather-engraved-ring-item-14727371.aspx?storeid=10227 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/nialaya-jewelry-feather-engraved-ring-item-14727371.aspx?storeid=10227)

* * *

**Tax Information/Wealth Inequality**

[ **https://gfycat.com/fakecandiddungbeetle** ](https://gfycat.com/fakecandiddungbeetle)

[ **https://postimg.cc/cv2HDBgQ** ](https://postimg.cc/cv2HDBgQ)

[ **https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QPKKQnijnsM &feature=youtu.be** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QPKKQnijnsM&feature=youtu.be)

* * *

On the flight back to Rochester, Sypha began to think. And think. And think. She thought about Trevor, about Adrian, and about what was going to happen given that she was changing everything by accepting Adrian's offer. A feeling of uncertainty came over her, and she tried to accept the change, but it was pulling at her. Their peculiar little friend trio had just become comfortable, and yet change was surely going to begin again. She nibbled on her thumbnail absentmindedly. Sypha told herself she wasn’t really the worrying type, and yet there was a slight twinge of guilt inside her that kept resurfacing even though she tried to squash it. It didn’t help when Adrian reached across the plush armrest to grab her small hand in his. Holding Adrian’s hand felt nice, she thought, leaning back in the cushy first-class airplane seat. It felt good. But it also felt wrong somehow, in a way that didn’t make sense to her. The feeling was very subtle, almost imperceptible, but she knew there was something that wasn’t sitting quite right. Even after their drunken discussion the night before. Sighing, she turned away from the sky and looked back to her handsome companion, who somehow managed to look good even on an airplane. 

“How’s your book?” She asked, looking between his pale, elegant features and the book in his left hand. Adrian met her gaze.

“It’s good. It’s one of Malcolm Gladwell’s books. My Dad gave it to me,” he responded, flipping it to show her the title.  _ Outliers: The Story of Success _ . Sypha shifted closer to him.

“Oh, I’ve heard of Gladwell. I read his book  _ Blink _ . What’s this one about?” 

“It’s about extremely successful people and how they became successful.”

“Ah. Did he give you any tips so far about how to be successful?” He was about halfway through. Adrian sort of laughed, very quietly. 

“Yes. Have a successful family.”

“Well, you’ve already got that,” Sypha muttered, looking out the windows at the clouds. Adrian made a noncommittal sound, and after a moment he put his book down. 

“Did you have fun at the Met?” He changed the subject, running his thumb over hers. Sypha smiled, nodding with tired eyes. Flashes of beautiful paintings and sculptures went through her mind. Powerful Egyptian statues and dreamy Renaissance works.

“Yes, it was wonderful. I loved the sculptures. But I wish we could have seen more.”

“It’s a huge museum. It’s over two million square feet, Sypha. I haven’t even seen everything in there,” he explained, “They change the exhibits a lot, so it’s almost impossible to see everything.”

“Wow. I didn’t know that.” She tried to engage more in the conversation, but the feeling was still there, in the pit of her stomach, gnawing at her. She stared down at their intertwined hands and wondered what Trevor would think. What he would feel.

"You can see more of the museum if you come to see me perform at Carnegie Hall. Two weekends from now. You can stay at the apartment again, if you want. Make a weekend out of it. In fact, neither of us have classes on Fridays so we could actually go a day early. I would have to practice in the afternoon, but you could go around the city. I can get you tickets to a Broadway show if you want. My mom would probably go with you," Adrian began planning aloud and Sypha laughed a little.

"Woah. Adrian, you're so sweet, but I'm not even sure if I can come yet. I have to get someone to take my spot. I'm supposed to be teaching yoga on Saturday morning."

"Oh. Well, I can get you a midday flight. There's a Delta flight that leaves at one from Rochester, you could take that. So you wouldn't have to miss your class."

Sypha felt so out of place sitting in first class with a Billionaire's son. He didn't have regular people's problems.

"Uh, okay. That works! Thank you," she smiled, "I can probably stay Sunday, too. Do you want Trevor to come?"

"I'd like that. But he won't want to stay at my family's apartment. Maybe I'll rent an Airbnb for us for the weekend. So he doesn't feel weird. My Dad might stay the night at the apartment, and I don't really want them to cross paths, of course."

"Right," Sypha huffed. That would be a disaster.

"But he hasn't told me if he's coming or not yet. I'll ask him again."

"Good," Sypha smiled. "It'll be great to see you perform."

A silence passed.

“So, what do you have planned for this week?” Adrian asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Hm. Ice skating with my friends Andy and Leah on Friday. And I have to write a couple of papers: history and political science. But not that much really. Yoga class.” She looked over to Adrian.  “Have you ever done yoga?” 

“Ah, once or twice. Youtube videos. But I feel silly doing yoga for some reason. Maybe it just doesn’t suit me.” Sypha hummed.

“What do you usually do to work out?” 

“Running or swimming. And fencing, of course.” Adrian had a beautiful body, but his was different from Trevor’s. He was leaner and a little taller. Slimmer through the waist and hips. More toned than bulky.

“Right! That’s really cool. Can I watch you fence sometime?”  _ I bet he would look so handsome fencing. Like a prince. Or a pirate. _

“Sure. I have a nice gym in my building, too, so if you ever want to work out or have a nice space to do yoga, just let me know. It’s pretty empty because it’s such a new building.” Sypha’s eyes went wide in excitement at the offer.

“Really? That would be amazing! The school gym is usually full of annoying muscly guys who try to hit on me when I do my yoga near the lifting area.” Adrian chuckled.

“I promise I won’t hit on you when I lift at my gym, then.” She pushed her shoulder against his, playfully.

“Nah, you can hit on me when I’m doing yoga. That’s different. You’re not a creepy stranger… I like you,” Sypha flirted, and Adrian faltered for a moment before he realized she was leaning in so he would kiss her. He did, finding it strange to kiss her when he was completely sober. It felt different. Sweeter, softer. More real, somehow. When he pulled back she smiled, reaching to hold his hand again.

“I like you too,” he muttered under his breath, a blush tinting his pale cheeks. Sypha turned to look at him, his face illuminated in the morning sunlight, eyes glittering. She almost giggled and kissed him again, but stopped herself because they were on an airplane. She just squeezed his hand and kissed his cheek briefly. Adrian blushed even harder at that.

_ He’s so beautiful in the sunlight. He looks like an angel. _

“Do you want to hang out sometime this week?” She asked quietly. Adrian shifted in his seat, crossing his legs.

“Yeah. Definitely. I have to practice for my performance at Carnegie and study for a couple of exams, but I’m sure I can find a time to see you.”

“That’s so amazing that you’re performing at Carnegie Hall. You’re so talented. Can I watch you?” She looked up at him with bright eyes. Adrian nodded bashfully.

“Yeah, for sure. Do - do you want to come over sometime this week? I can play for you,” he offered, voice lower than usual.  _ That’s so romantic. _

“Of course. Wait-” Trevor popped into her mind again, “we have to work on the group project. For the next assignment. Should Trevor and I come over to work on it again… at your apartment?”

Adrian had forgotten about Trevor for a while. He sighed without meaning to. Sypha noticed, frowning.  _ Maybe he doesn’t want Trevor to come over. It was kind of a disaster last time at the end when Trevor pissed him off. Ah, why does he always ruin things?  _ Trevor had been so annoying the last time, touching everything in his apartment, eating slopping, and making his taunting little comments.  _ Not to mention their fight. _

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just invited us over. We can meet at school, in the study room-” Adrian turned around.

“Oh, it’s fine, I just-” he faltered, a tint of pink still on his cheeks, “Nevermind. School is fine. We can work there. What night?” 

“Wednesday.”  _ What was he thinking about? He’s still blushing. _

“Alright.”  _ Did he have something more intimate in mind? Maybe I just ruined that.  _

“After we finish working, I can come over… by myself, if you want. So you can play for me? Trevor probably has practice or something,” she shrugged, making an excuse to come over by herself. Abandoning Trevor felt a little bad, but having private time with Adrian sounded very good. Adrian was about to answer when the pilot buzzed on the PA system.

“Attention, please. We’ll be starting our descent into the Rochester area pretty soon here. I think we’ll be able to have you on the ground in- eh, about twenty minutes. Weather in Rochester is fairly cloudy, forty-one degrees. Thank you for flying with Delta.”

He turned back to Sypha.

“Sure, that sounds good.”

“Adrian, one thing. I- I don’t want to tell Trevor about us yet. I don’t want him to know.”

“What? Why?” Adrian scowled. Sypha bit her lip, looking down at his lap.

“I don’t know. He’s so... overdramatic. He’ll get upset. I mean, we did just go on a trip without him. He doesn’t really have any other friends, Adrian. Not any real friends. If I tell him we’re going out, he’ll probably get angry about it.”

“Why?” Adrian probed, a little upset.  _ Fuck.  _

“Because he’s jealous of you, and he’s really protective of me sometimes. He always keeps guys away from me if I don’t like them. At parties and that kind of thing. I don’t know, he just- he’s kind of clingy sometimes. Because I’m his only real friend. He doesn’t like me dating if I spend all my time with my boyfriend, you know? Because then he has no one to hang out with. And he doesn’t have any family. Then he’s all alone.”

“Hm.” Adrian pursed his lips. 

“Obviously we’ll have to tell him eventually if we keep dating, but for now, I think we shouldn’t. I think he’s - sensitive right now. Last night he sounded really jealous that we were out without him. Before we tell him anything I think we should make sure to spend time with him. Separately, even. I can hang out with him this week, and you should hang out with him too. Have you two ever even spent time together, just one-on-one?”

“No. Unless you count him yelling at me in my bathroom.”  _ He still seems upset about that. Even though he’s trying to joke about it. _

“Come on. He’s fun! I know you guys like each other. That’s pretty obvious, even though you both try to hide it.”

“How is it obvious?” Adrian scowled. 

“You passionately made out with each other for five minutes!” Sypha huffed, perhaps a bit too loudly on the plane. Adrian’s eyes went wide, embarrassed. A flight attendant passed by them. 

“Sypha!” He whisper-yelled. She covered her mouth and tried not to giggle.  _ Oops. _

“Sorry,” she mouthed, “just saying. It happened.” Adrian rolled his eyes.

“It wasn’t that long. And anyway, I still think he hates me sometimes. Not all the time, but-” 

“He’s jealous of you.” She cut in. Adrian hummed.

“Come on, hang out with him. Please,” Sypha whispered, “I bet you’ll have fun.”

“I’ll hang out with him. I just- I don’t think it’s going to be easy to keep it a secret that we’re dating. What if he asks me?” Adrian turned to look at her. Sypha scrunched her lips.

“I doubt he’ll ask you that.”

“If he really hates you dating then I think it’s very probable that he’ll ask me something. What if he asks me if we got together in the city? What am I supposed to do? Lie?”  _ Argh. _

“Are you comfortable with that?” 

“No. And I don’t think he’d appreciate being deceived, Sypha.” She thought about it for a moment.  _ You’re right. _

“Okay. If you can’t dodge the question, then fine. Tell him. But if he doesn’t ask straight out, please don’t.”

“Fine,” he agreed, taking out his cellphone to text his driver. She watched him type out a text telling him to pick them up from the airport.

“But we need to spend time with him. I don’t want him to think we’re abandoning him. Okay?” She didn’t want to let it go. The guilt at the pit of her stomach wouldn’t let her let it go.

“Of course not. I’ll text him today, alright?” 

“Thank you.”

“He’s my friend, too. I wasn’t planning on abandoning him. Why would you think that?” Sypha sighed a little, grabbing her purse from below and putting on some chapstick.

“Oh, I didn’t mean actually abandoning him. Trevor, he… he’s sensitive about this stuff. About me dating other people. He doesn’t like to feel ignored. I didn’t explain this very well last night. We just- we can’t forget to text him and hang out with him. It hurts his feelings. You know he doesn’t have anyone else. He doesn’t have any other friends, or family. Not really.” She repeated herself so he would understand the reality of Trevor’s situation.

“That’s sad,” Adrian muttered, thinking about it.

“He spent Christmas alone in his dorm room eating Yakisoba.”

“Jesus,” Adrian sighed. He wasn’t a big fan of Christmas but his holiday sure beat that sad story, passive-aggressiveness and social pressures aside.

“He tries to pretend it doesn't bother him. But I can tell it does. Of course, it does. It would bother anyone, being that alone in the world. He tries to push the feelings away… with the drinking and the partying. Sleeping around. Getting high. Making up conspiracy theories to try to explain it.”

“Explain it?” Adrian quirked a brow.

“Why he’s all alone. Why his whole family is dead. Why the only person who survived that fire was him. Well, him and his rapist Uncle… It’s hard to make sense of a thing like that. That’s why he blames your Dad. He feels like he needs someone to blame. It’s easier to blame him then… I don’t know… Fate. Randomness. A candle pushed too close to the curtains.” 

Adrian nodded slowly. He knew what she meant. 

“I know that. I mean I know why he acts that way. You know, he should really see someone.” 

“A psychiatrist?” Sypha asked, meeting his golden gaze.

“A therapist. Someone. Isn’t there a counseling center at school?” 

“Yeah, I brought it up once. He laughed at me. Said something about how liquor was his therapist and he couldn’t afford another one because it was too expensive to have both.”

Adrian sighed in lieu of a reply.

“...Well, maybe he can just talk to us.”  _ Good luck with that. He shuts down on me. _

“He barely trusts me, and I’ve known him for over a year.”

Adrian grabbed her hand, meeting her gaze with kindness and understanding.

“We can work on it. Little by little. Maybe eventually we can convince him to see a therapist or something.”

Sypha smiled earnestly, leaned over, and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you for caring, Adrian. It means a lot.”

The next day...

[a.tepes]

2:35 pm (a.tepes) Hey, Trevor. Sorry I didn’t see your messages. Yeah, we had a good time. How was your weekend?

2:40 pm (trevorbelmont) it was okay. Kind of boring

2:41 pm (trevorbelmont) what did you guys do

2:42 pm (a.tepes) I don’t like having conversations over text. Do you want to come over later or something? 

3:01 pm (trevorbelmont) sure I just got out of my last class

3:03 pm (a.tepes) I’m at home. Should I send my driver to pick you up?

3:03 pm (trevorbelmont) Nah, that’s okay I’ll walk

3:04 pm (a.tepes) Alright.

“Hey,” Trevor greeted, feeling a little awkward standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. His cheeks were pink from the cold. Adrian pushed the door wide open for him.

“Hey, come on in. How are you?” 

“Fine,” Trevor mumbled. Adrian looked comfortable in a black Alexander McQueen sweatshirt with artistic embroidery of a skull and flowers with red, blue, and yellow accents. Trevor peered down at his black skinny jeans and red socks, then back up to his pretty face.

“Nice sweatshirt.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, and Trevor shrugged off his coat and put it away in the closet. 

“So,” he began, a little awkwardly, smelling the rich boy fragrance of his perfect apartment, “What are you up to?” 

“Oh, I was practicing for my performance. It’s in two weeks. I need to practice every day now.” Trevor walked into the apartment and looked at his violin which was resting on a chair. He must have just been playing it.

“I thought you said you already won the competition?” Trevor wondered, coming forward to look at the thing. It was very shiny, just like his shoes always were. Polished to perfection. 

“I did. But, the performance is the big thing. It’s in Carnegie Hall. Everyone will be watching. They take videos and recordings to sell. I have to play it perfectly.”

“Well, you can practice on me. I mean,” he coughed, “I could listen. So you can practice playing with an audience.”

“Uh-” Adrian turned to look at Trevor over his shoulder, “Sure. Later.”

“Are you still thinking about inviting us to the performance?” Trevor wondered.

“Yes. I’d love it if you two came to see my performance. Can you come?” Trevor contemplated it for a moment. He couldn’t really see himself going to a fancy place like Carnegie Hall, listening to classical music and mingling with the elite. He didn’t have anything to wear, really. And when he remembered that Dracula was probably going to be in the same hall, he soured to the idea.

“I would get you a seat far, far away from my Dad. I promise. You wouldn’t have to talk to him. In fact, I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

“I don’t know if I can make it, but- I’ll think about it. Let me see what I have going on.”

“Okay.”

Trevor looked around as he walked into the living area, glancing over the smooth, gleaming surfaces and plush, velvet couches, lips pursed. He felt awkward being there without Sypha. Adrian’s apartment was too perfect. Everything was beautiful and shiny and Trevor felt like he was in such deep contradiction with the space around him. He had rough stubble on his chin from not shaving for a few days and his clothes were wrinkled, overworn, and disheveled. His gaze moved around, looking over Adrian’s neatly organized papers and books on the dining table. He must have been reading, otherwise, he wouldn’t have left them out.  _ The Brain that Changes Itself, Principles of Neuroscience, Neuroplasticity: Your Brain’s Superpower _ . His notes, both typed in perfect grammar and handwritten in elegant, narrow handwriting. Color-coded and methodical.

“Is something wrong?” Adrian asked, scowling at Trevor and his quizzical expression. Trevor frowned, turning back to him.

“I don’t get you,” he blurted randomly. Adrian didn’t know how to take that. At first, he thought Trevor was being funny, but then he quickly realized he wasn’t and his expression fell, confusion sweeping over his elegant features. Eventually, a slight scowl appeared on his blonde brow. He tilted his head to the side.

“What do you mean, Trevor?” Trevor exhaled oddly and went to the couch, plopping down on its soft cushions. Adrian followed him. 

“You’re- different. You’re a really different guy. I don’t understand you.”

A pause.

“Do you think you understand most people?” Adrian asked quietly, sitting across from Trevor on the loveseat, much more gracefully. Trevor didn’t know what to say to that. He just looked at Adrian’s perfect shiny hair, thinking. 

“I guess. For the most part, I would say so. I think I understand how most people act, how they think. Why they do what they do. But not you. I don’t really understand you. What you like. What you want… or what you think about.”

Adrian hummed, looking down at the plush rug beneath his sock-clad feet.

“I don’t really say what I’m thinking out loud. Not usually, anyway. I wasn’t raised to do that,” he explained, tucking his legs up on the seat. Trevor made a noncommittal noise.

“Not surprising. Dracula’s not really the considerate type, is he?”

Adrian blinked, expressionless.

“Why are we having this conversation, Trevor? You want to know what I’m thinking? Just ask me,” he cut right to it, and Trevor straightened, locking eyes with him, “If you don’t understand something then I’ll explain it to you. Okay?” 

Trevor looked around again. Everything in his apartment was white, blue, polished perfection. Refined and chic. They were sitting right in the middle of a ZGallerie magazine photo. Trevor looked at his papers on the coffee table and his neat, even handwriting. Everything was carefully organized in piles or folders. There were no old cups or cigarette butts. No trash. No life. Just perfect, organized, beautiful. Laminated brain diagrams. Sophisticated table decorations. There wasn’t even dust. 

Then he looked back at Adrian. The gorgeous blonde was juxtaposed to the apartment around him. His pretty blonde hair was half up, and a bit messy as he had quickly tied it back after class to get it out of his way. A few curly tendrils framed his face, one falling just beside his eye. Trevor felt the urge to brush it away. The apartment was all white with touches of blue, but Adrian was dressed in black with a splash of red. He was almost heroin-chic with his tousled long hair, tight skinny jeans, and oversized black sweatshirt, complete with a gothic skull and everything. He had his sleeves pulled down over his wrists, and Trevor noticed his nails were painted black and he had a few chunky silver rings on his fingers. His eyes lingered there.

“I don’t understand you. I don’t know how else to say it, it’s just- The way you live is so unusual. Your apartment is perfect. I’ve been over a couple of times now and every time it’s spotless, like a magazine. It doesn’t even look lived in. Where’s your trash? Where’s your clutter? It’s not like you have OCD or something, right?”

“No. I just- keep things clean. Some people are like that,” he shrugged, slouching and resting his head on the couch. Trevor shook his head.

“Not just that. It’s all white and blue, like- something out of a movie. Like what apartments look like on fancy TV shows. Even your notes are perfect,” he picked up a laminated sheet, neatly annotated and diagrammed. A diagram of a spinal cord. 

“Your whole life is like something out of a magazine. Not only do you play the violin, and go to an Ivy League college, but you’re also a fencer. And an artist. And you can code better than half the IT jerkoffs out there but you’ve never taken a class before. And now,” Trevor laughed, “Now you’re gonna be a model. A real model. You’ll actually be in magazines… It’s too much. It doesn’t seem real. You don’t seem real. But then, when it’s just you alone at home, and there’s no one else around-” Trevor turned to look at him, “you’re totally different. You’re goth,” Trevor laughed, “You wear big sweatshirts, you paint your nails black, you slouch. You smoke. You’re real.” A pensive moment passed and Adrian met his gaze. Trevor thought Adrian might have laughed after what he had said, but he didn’t. It wasn’t funny to him, Trevor could tell. His pretty mouth was set in a frown, full lower lip curled a little. 

“I’m real in moderation,” he explained, slowly, “I’m real when people can’t see me.”

Trevor sat back at that, noting the seriousness of his tone and his voice. This wasn’t a light conversation, and Trevor felt like he was already beginning to understand. He had glimpses of that world. A long time ago. Glimpses of a world where everything is scrutinized, and people never stop looking. Never stop judging. 

“I’m a person,” he shot back, without malice. It was just a statement. Adrian exhaled through his nose.

“You don’t count. That’s not what I meant. I don’t need to impress you. My family, my circles- they don’t even know you exist.” Adrian pulled his legs closer to his body, hugging them. Trevor made a face at him.

“Why- why can’t you just be the person you wanna be? Is your dad going to kill you if you wear black nail polish? Or smoke a cigarette? Why do you care so much? He’s a piece of shit!”

“He’s my dad,” Adrian’s voice grew louder, “He’s strict, but he loves me. And I love him... He’s getting better, Trevor. He’s not as bad as he used to be. My mom’s rubbing off on him. Slowly. She’s making him a nicer person.”

“But he’s still going to control you. Control your life,” Trevor shot back.

“They both control my life. It’s not just him. My dad wouldn’t care about the smoking. But my mom has rules of her own. They care about me, they do. But- a lot of the time… it’s on their terms. In their way… They didn’t want me to leave home. They were mad when I said I wanted to get a place out here. My dad was mad when I said I wanted to be a doctor, not a CEO. I’m working on it, Trevor. Taking control of my own life is a process. I can’t just do everything at once. That’s not- that’s not possible. I can’t just run away from it all.”

A silence passed as Trevor remembered running away from the scraps that were left of his own family, many years ago. When he was just a child.

“Well, you could,” he posed, “You could run away- start your own life without their rules. You could try to be an artist for real. But it would be hard.” Adrian scoffed in exasperation.

“No, I really couldn't. You think I could just break off from them? Try to live on my own? Impossible. I could  _ never _ do that. They control pretty much everything in my life- my future. My apartment, my cars, my school bills, my credit cards. I don’t have my own bank account. My dad has all my paperwork- You think I haven’t thought about it?” Adrian was starting to rant, his voice getting louder, faster. Slightly more unhinged, frantic. Trevor’s ice blue eyes widened as he realized he was picking at what was probably a very sore wound. 

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn't know that you actually want to run away,” Trevor sighed.

“I don’t! I just- when I came out last year, I planned for the worst. I really wasn’t sure how my dad would feel, and I thought maybe he would really lose his temper. He’s like that. He can be calm and patient for days, weeks, maybe even months, and then all of a sudden- Bam! He’s furious. He throws things. He has a fit... He really doesn’t know how to control his temper. Before I came out, I thought I should be prepared, just in case, you know? In case - he kicked me out.”

“What did you do?” Trevor asked.

“I took a bunch of cash out of the bank, I packed some bags. I scanned all my important documents and put them in a folder. Took my passport. I was ready to go, just in case. I was ready to disappear,” Adrian remembered, looking out the windows, lost in thought. Trevor watched him. “I never told them that.”

“When you came out, what happened? What did he say?” He couldn’t imagine Dracula being a super supportive parent of a not-so-straight son.

“It was awkward. My mom was nice about it. She was supportive- telling me that they’ll love me no matter what, that sort of thing. But my father was,” Adrian’s vacant gaze danced around idly as he recounted the memory, “disappointed. I could tell. He wasn’t angry. I think he was just- sad. He didn’t yell at me at all. I think he knew already, he just didn’t know I would come out and say it.”

“Is he homophobic?”

“Not really, no. I mean, when it was other people, he didn’t seem to care at all. I remember him telling a story when I was younger that his roommate was gay when he was in college. He said his roommate came on to him and he had to tell the guy that he wasn’t gay- he wasn’t interested. Then, he said, his roommate backed off and they never brought it up again. My Dad said he didn’t care. It wasn’t his business.” 

“But when you came out, what did he actually say, like, verbatim?” Trevor pushed. Adrian sighed, shifting in his seat.

“Something like ‘This is just the way things are. We’ll just deal with it, it’ll be okay. But you should keep quiet about it because people are very judgemental about bisexual guys’. My mom cut him off and said I can be public about it, and I can do whatever I want, but she agreed with him that it would probably be better to keep my sexuality mostly private...

"A few days later my Dad sat me down and had a talk with me and he basically said ‘whatever you want to do in your private life is fine, but don’t be flamboyant about it. Don’t tell everyone, because people are quick to judge’. Most people don’t even know. I had cut off my ex-friends by that point and I barely had anyone to tell. One friend in the city and he’s not a loudmouth so I don’t think he spread it. Barely anyone knows. My aunt, my two cousins. And you and Sypha. But that’s the way my Dad wants it. He pretty much said he won’t judge me, but if I do anything gay it should be in private. And I should try not to tell people. I think he’s worried about a tabloid story. He asked me if I was dating any guys, or if I had ever dated guys, and I told him ‘no’, and I then think he mumbled ‘good’ under his breath.”

“Jesus.”

“My dad grew up in the seventies and the eighties. He associates being gay with counterculture and AIDS. I think he was worried about it. That’s how it came across. If he was mad about it, I definitely would have been able to tell. I think he was just disappointed. And he’s not wrong: people would come after me. If it made a national story, I’d get all kinds of hate. That’s why I considered running away. Some random twenty-year-old artist being bisexual is no big deal. I might get a couple insults, a few bad comments. But the son of one of the most important people on the planet? The son of a global celebrity? I’ll get worldwide hatred. Some kindness, I’m sure, but still- how many nasty comments do you think I’d have to delete on my Instagram? How many pop culture new stories? YouTube videos? Tabloid stories? It’s something my father would rather me keep under wraps. He doesn’t want that. Of course, I don’t want that either, but it makes it hard to live my life-”

“That’s why you use a fake name on Tinder, isn’t it? So fewer people would know that you’re bi?” Trevor was connecting the dots.

“Yes, that’s why.” 

Trevor seriously wanted to know where he came up with that fake name, Alucard, but he didn’t ask. It seemed too personal, too sensitive, so he left it alone.

“I thought about leaving this all behind, buying a little apartment somewhere, maybe in France- living under the radar. But he can track me. Anywhere. He could track anyone. And he would never let me leave. It’s- impossible, Trevor. I can’t leave. I could never do it... I have to do what they tell me. And if I want something different, I have to convince them. It’s more complicated than you understand. I have to do what I’m told. There are rules. There are expectations.”

Trevor thought deeply about what Adrian was saying, and he nodded solemnly. While at first, Trevor had written Adrian off as a pathetically gloomy rich boy, pouting over his daddy issues, then he was starting to realize that his concerns were real after all. A gilded cage is still a cage. A whispered order is still an order. 

“I’m sorry, Adrian. I don’t know what to say. Your life... it’s pretty on the outside and shitty on the inside.” 

Adrian almost rolled his eyes. He didn’t like pity. 

“Well, isn’t that just eloquent?” He quipped sharply.

“I’m just saying,” Trevor shrugged, “I would hate to live like that. Having to please everyone.” He actually sounded sympathetic for once, which Adrian found odd. 

“Everyone does,” Adrian rebuked, “In some way. Everyone cares what someone thinks… Everyone has someone they aim to please. It’s natural.” He played with his black fingernails, preferring looking at his hands to looking at Trevor, who was being empathetic for once.

“It’s usually not as extreme as your case,” Trevor sighed dismissively. 

“No. Certainly not.” Trevor stood suddenly, getting off the couch and walking out of the living area.

“Well, they’re not here now, Prince Pouty. It’s just you and me.” Adrian watched him get his coat from the closet and stood up, confused.

“What’s going on?” 

“Let’s go out. Come on. Get your cigarettes. And some cash… We’re going to go have fun.” His tone had changed from morose to mischievous. 

“What are we doing?”

“Engaging in a little rebellion,” Trevor smiled. Adrian raised an eyebrow at him.

“What does that mean?”

“We’re going to do something illegal. It’ll be fun! Come on,” he insisted, some strange excitement coming over him. Adrian rolled his eyes.

“I am  _ not _ shoplifting!” He shot back.

“Not shoplifting, Jesus!” Trevor raised his arms, “I meant buying alcohol with a fake ID. At a liquor store. Minor rebellion.”

“I don’t have one.” Adrian shook his head.

“I do! But you’re buying, rich boy. Is your driver around?” 

“Yeah. But I don’t want him to drop us off at a liquor store,” Adrian muttered, rifling through his junk drawer.

“Fine. Have him drop us off at the coffee place. It’s close enough. Did you find your cigs?” He walked over to the kitchen.

“I’m out.”

“We’ll buy some at the store. Just bring your lighter. Come on, we’re losing daylight.”

Adrian slipped his lighter in his pocket and put on a Black Givenchy Parka coat. Trevor watched him put on a pair of sleek black shoes with laces and thick soles. They were a cross between dress shoes and industrial work boots, and yet oddly stylish with the rest of the outfit. In the elevator, Trevor looked him up and down again. He always had such an interesting and unusual style. And he always looked expensive. Always. Even in a t-shirt and jeans. 

“What?” Adrian scoffed because Trevor was staring even more than usual.

“You always look so rich. What kind of shoes are those? I’ve never seen them before.”

Adrian looked down at the clunky black leather shoes, turning his ankle to see them.

“Oh. They’re ridged-sole derby shoes. By Givenchy.”

“Derby shoes?” Trevor raised a brow.

“They’re like Oxfords, but less formal. And Givenchy puts the industrial style sole on them. For something different.”

“I’ve never heard of that. I guess any style that doesn’t make it to Walmart goes right over my head.” He admitted, and Adrian laughed loudly, but when Trevor didn’t laugh with him he turned and stared.

“Oh my God, you’re serious, aren’t you? You actually get all your clothes at Walmart?”

“Not true! I’ve stolen a couple of shirts from the Gap. And the washing machines,” he admitted like he was proud of it. Adrian made a face at him.

“You know I can just take you to the Mall and get you some new clothes, right? I can pick some stuff up for you. Not from Walmart.”

“Nah. Thanks, I don’t need your money. I have a job. I’ll just save up.” Trevor shook his head, “How much do they cost?” He looked down at the cool shoes again.

“Why? You want a pair?” Adrian asked. They waited outside for his driver.

“Maybe, I dunno! They look cool. I don’t know if I could pull them off, though.” 

“I think you could,” Adrian nodded, “With the right outfit.”

“How much?” He asked again. 

“Nine hundred dollars.” 

“Fuck,” Trevor guffawed, “Never- mind.”

After a short drive, Adrian’s driver dropped them off at the coffee shop and then they walked three blocks to Clinton Liquors. Trevor set the six-pack on the counter with confidence. 

“And can I have a pack of reds, please?” He asked the cashier, pulling out his wallet. He flashed his ID and handed over Adrian’s cash.

“Thanks,” he muttered and put the Marlboros in the pocket of his Walmart coat. It only took a few minutes to get to Baden park. They sat at a picnic table, away from the playground. The sun was starting to go down, making the sky bleed orange and red. Trevor opened the pack and put one cigarette between his lips before handing another to Adrian. The blonde lit it for him, cupping his hand to block the chilly breeze. Winter was fading, but it was still cold in Rochester. Adrian lit his own cigarette and took a drag, pocketing the lighter. A silence passed as they took in the view of the setting sun. 

“I love sunsets,” Adrian sighed.

“Sypha does too. She always sends me pictures of the sunset when she’s in California. From the beach.” Adrian just hummed, taking another drag. Trevor looked at him again in the fading sunlight. He couldn’t help himself. Adrian was ridiculously beautiful. His gold hair glittered in waves over his shoulders. Trevor watched him bring the cigarette between his pink lips, draw in a breath. He held the cigarette in a feminine way, Trevor thought. His face and hair were light gold, but his coat and his nails and everything else was black. There were an assortment of rings on his pale, thin fingers. All silver. One looked like a feather, another like two skulls, facing each other. His hands were large but his fingers were narrow and feminine. 

“You stare at me a lot, Trevor. Do you know that?” Adrian muttered, voice passive and distant. Trevor shifted abruptly, exhaling smoke. He turned his gaze to the cold hard ground beneath their feet.

“Sorry. I- uh. You,” he stumbled, “you have interesting rings. I was checking them out. Where do you even get rings like that?” He practically tripped over his words, rushing to avoid the truth which was that he had been staring for far too long without saying anything. Adrian turned towards him and put out both his hands, the cigarette between his index finger and his middle finger. Trevor peered down at them, scowling, trying to figure them out.

“You can just ask to look at them. I love rings. I have a lot. This one-” he tapped with his other hand to a large silver ring with several words carved into the flat surface of the heart, “is by Gucci. It’s Latin. It says all, love, and… below.”

“Why?” Trevor asked. 

“Art.” 

“Oh. Right. What brands are these?” He gestured to Adrian’s other hand, trying not to get distracted by Adrian’s glittery hair falling all over the place, or his long eyelashes reflecting the light.

“This one is by Alexander McQueen. And this one, I don’t remember. I got it online.”

Trevor leaned back, away from him. He looked out at the sunset briefly.

“...They’re cool.”

Adrian turned to raise an eyebrow at Trevor over his shoulder.

“Thanks. Have you decided you don’t care about making fun of me anymore?”

Trevor said nothing, and they smoked in silence for a while. The ground was cold and the smoke warmed their lungs, if only a little. Trevor didn’t mind the cold that much. He was used to it. A late winter breeze blew a plastic bag up and away in the field in front of them. Trevor followed it with his eyes, looking to see where it would go next. It blew into the street. 

“I told you I want to be friends. Remember?”

Adrian sighed at that, blowing smoke through his nose on the exhale. 

“I know,” he whispered, stomping out his cigarette and standing up. “I’m cold. Let’s walk back to my place.”

“Okay,” Trevor sighed, putting out his own and grabbing the bag. They started out of the park, avoiding the playground and walking down the sidewalk.

“You still haven’t told me, what did you guys do in New York?” Trevor’s low voice sounded a bit tired and faintly sad. So faint a person would have to know him well to even pick up on it. 

“Uh- we went to the Hamilton’s wedding reception brunch with my parents. It was nice I guess. I think Sypha had a good time mostly. It was a beautiful space. Very fancy, lots of food… Michael Buble. Sypha liked meeting Sarah Jessica Parker. She’s a friend of my mom and the bride.” Adrian sounded a bit distant. Unenthused. Trevor wasn’t sure why. But then again, the blonde had his moods.

“Sarah Jessica Parker. That’s cool. I know her name. She was on Sex and the City, right?” Trevor remembered watching an episode with Sypha.

“Yeah. That was her show,” Adrian sighed, exasperated. Trevor pursed his lips.

“...I hated it,” he muttered randomly. Adrian laughed, deep in his throat.

“Hah. Me too.”

“What did Sypha think of your parents?”

“She was nervous to meet them. My mom liked her, and they got on well. But she didn’t really like my Dad, of course. Very few people ever do.” His gaze was far away, Trevor noticed.

“Did she say why she didn’t like him?”

“Well, she didn’t say that outright of course. It’s- implied. She said he was intimidating and scary.” They turned a corner.

“How does your mother stand him?” Trevor wondered aloud. Adrian scowled at that.

“She’s always loved him despite his flaws. She’s not crazy, she knows he’s- he has issues. He can be mean. But he’s never mean with her. They love each other.”

“Still, though. I mean, how can she stand him? Isn’t your mom nice?”

“Yes. She is. She saves lives for a living, and she donates her paychecks anyway. My mom- she - she wants to fix him. Make him a better person, and all that. She’s already helped him a lot actually. He’s doing better. His temper’s better now, and he’s kinder. He thinks about other people’s feelings more than he used to...”

Trevor wondered if one person could really change another person so deeply. 

“Is that real change, though? Or is it just performative?”

“Oh, he’s definitely better than before. She’s made him kinder, smoother around the edges. But- well, I already told you. He’s not a patron saint or anything. But he’s improving. My mom totally believes that love is the best medicine. For the mind, especially. That’s her view of psychology and relationships. Give them love, and they’re more loving. Give them kindness, and they’re more kind. That’s how she is with people.”

“Doesn’t it exhaust her?” Trevor wondered about Lisa, the sweet, philanthropic Angel who married Dracula himself. A scumbag. A dirty, lying, manipulative piece of shit. What a strange relationship. 

“It does sometimes. But that’s the way she chooses to live. That’s who she is. And my Dad loves her for it. He calls her a rose amongst thorns. He hates most people. He can be very misanthropic sometimes.” Trevor wanted to ask more, but Adrian was clearly getting upset talking about his parents, so he relented.

“Let’s change the subject. What else did you do?”

Adrian let out a breath. Trevor assumed it was a sigh of relief.

“Uhm, we walked around the Central Park area. Went to Rockefeller center and looked at the ice skaters. Got my mom some birthday presents. And we had dinner at this French place that I like. La Grenouille. We had oysters and champagne.”

“Jesus. I bet she loved that.”

“She did!” Adrian smiled. It was a good memory.

“When she texted me back she said you guys were in a bar or something? She sent a picture,” Trevor muttered, kicking a rock on the sidewalk.

“Oh, yeah. We went to a nice lounge called the Blonde. Then we went to the Top of the Standard. It was nice.” They walked in silence for a moment. 

“...Did anything happen?”

Adrian turned to look at him.

“What do you mean?” 

“Did you- did you hook up?” Trevor felt awkward but it was killing him.

“Hook up?” Adrian raised a brow. He wasn’t supposed to answer that.

“Did you have sex?” Trevor pushed, uncomfortably. He sounded like he was trying too hard to be casual. No one was around to listen and he couldn’t stand the not-knowing any longer. Adrian averted eye contact.

“No. We didn’t.” Trevor said nothing for a moment, thinking to himself instead. The sun was almost down.

“Why did you ask me that, Trevor?” Adrian shot back, clearing the air.

“I dunno. You were in the city, by yourselves, going out at night… is it such a crazy thing to think?” He tried to sound casual about it but Adrian was starting to wonder. He slowed down a little, hands stuffed into his pockets, hair blowing in the cool breeze. Trevor slowed too, somewhat reluctantly. He awkwardly met the other man’s golden eyes. Adrian looked serious all of a sudden.

“Were you jealous that we went to the wedding together?” Adrian asked, remembering what Sypha had said on the plane. Trevor scowled, huffing a little.

“No. Of course not.” He insisted, like he was insulted. Adrian tried not to make a face at him. It was difficult because he was so obviously lying.

“Okay. Come on, I want to get back. It’s freezing out here.”

They walked for a couple of blocks in silence. Eventually, they passed a tattoo parlor, and it caught Trevor’s eye. He stopped to look, grabbing the sleeve of Adrian’s designer coat.

“Hey, do you want to get a tattoo?” He smirked in his trademark fashion, wide and handsome.

“I can’t,” Adrian rejected the idea, looking inside the store and shaking his head.

“Come on! I’ll get one with you. Not the same one, but- I’ll get something. I don’t have any yet.” Adrian got lost in Trevor’s sparkling blue eyes for a moment. He wondered why he was so excited about it. 

“Why don’t you have any if you want one?” The blonde asked.

“Couldn’t afford it.” Trevor shrugged, peering in at the place. He had always wanted one. 

“Oh. How much do they cost?” Adrian had no idea they were expensive.

“A couple hundred. For a little one, probably just a hundred,” he explained, “I guess could afford one now. I have some money in the bank.” Adrian thought about the fact that previously Trevor hadn’t been able to afford even a hundred dollar tattoo. He forgot how poor Trevor was sometimes. Adrian blew a hundred on one meal without blinking. Or one bottle of wine. He moved to stand next to the poor man.

“What would you want?” He asked Trevor, who made a humming sound. 

“A porcupine. No, wait, a little six-pack of beer. That would be cute,” Trevor decided quickly, and Adrian laughed, thoroughly amused. They both chuckled for a while.

“Why a porcupine? And why beer?” He almost wheezed in confusion and amusement.

“Why not? I like porcupines. I like beer. Just a little one,” he shrugged. Adrian smiled while shaking his head.

“You know you’d have to live with it forever, right? They’re hard to remove. You should probably think about it first.” Trevor made a face.

“Nah. It’s just a little tattoo, I don’t care. I’ll always like beer and porcupines.”

That made Adrian smile.

“You’re hilarious. Well, I can’t do it, but I can cover you if you want to get one. No problem at all,” Adrian offered, stepping closer to him. It could be fun. And he felt bad that Trevor didn’t have one yet if he wanted one. 

“Cover me?” Trevor scowled, turning. Adrian took out his studded Saint Laurent wallet and handed over two hundred dollar bills. Trevor looked down at them in slight shock. That was just pocket change to Adrian.

“No,” he snapped. He didn’t want to take Adrian’s money like that. Tepes money. “No thanks. If we get them, I’ll pay for my own.” He was insistent on it.

“Well we’re not getting them, then. I can’t get a tattoo.”

“Why not!? You should get one for sure,” Trevor insisted, slapping Adrian’s back playfully.

“I really can’t, Trevor. My dad would be pissed.” When he started to walk away, Trevor moved to stop him, grabbing his arm. He wanted to go ahead with the plan.

“Get it somewhere he can’t see!” 

“Uh… no. Wouldn’t work.” He shook his head and crossed his arms.

“Why not?”

“He would see it.”

“When would your dad ever see you almost naked?” 

“A steam room. An onsen. A beach.” He rejected the idea. Trevor sighed sadly.

“Did you ask why you’re not allowed to get one?”

“We do business in Japan. It’s considered impolite to show a tattoo over there. And we go to the hot spring baths with the business partners so- I can’t. It’s considered inappropriate there,” he explained what his father had told him, disappointed but trying not to show it on his face. Trevor frowned.

“Weird. Okay, so just tell him you don’t want to go to Japan anymore. It’s not like you’re an employee or anything.”

“Actually, I am an employee. I forget what he said my position is supposed to be. An intern? Or, no- consultant? I don’t know… it’s ridiculous. But he had to give me an official title so I could get security passes and that sort of thing.” They continued the walk back to Adrian’s apartment, shivering a little in the cold. The sun set behind them.

“Adrian, have you ever just told him you don’t want to work there? Straight up?” Trevor asked, looking over at the thin teenager beside him. 

“Yes. Once. He told me I’d change my mind eventually. I said I wasn’t so sure, but he made me promise to give it a try. To see if I like working at the company.”

“Do you?” Trevor groaned, sure that he didn’t.

“Not really,” he exhaled in annoyance, “If I was running things, I’d do them differently. But I can’t. I don’t really make decisions at CTC, of course. I’m there to listen and help work on things when I’m needed. Not to make changes.”

“So he doesn’t even listen to you? If you have ideas? What a jackass,” Trevor insulted, his heart clenching up when he thought about what the man put his son through. 

“He does listen sometimes. Occasionally, he’ll agree with me about things. But I don’t really share a lot of my opinions about the company. What’s the point? I don’t even want to work there after I graduate.” He sighed again, and Trevor knew the idea was distressing him. A silence passed as they walked up the hill to Adrian’s apartment building.

“Why is he trying to force you so much?”

“He wants things his way. He wants me to take the company after he dies. CTC is only Tepes-run, in his mind,” the blonde explained. They walked into his building, moving past the pretty concierge lady and heading into the elevator.

“Could he really force you to do it?” Trevor wondered, turning to face him.

“My mom would fight him. I don’t think he would actually force me. He just tries to manipulate me into it.”

“What do you mean?”

Adrian apparently preferred staring holes into the elevator door to looking at Trevor.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he muttered dismissively, sadly. They walked down the hallway.

“Just give me an example, please. One example.” Adrian turned the key in his door lock and pushed it open. They began hanging their coats up in the closet.

“...I got the Ferrari because I agreed to help out this year. With CTC, I mean. He was pressuring me to do it, because I had refused freshman year, and when I finally said yes he got me the Ferrari. I had mentioned it before and he said no, but as soon as I said I’d help out at CTC, it was mine. He does that kind of thing.” Adrian stopped moving and dropped his arms, eyes downcast. Trevor noticed.

“That’s manipulative, alright.” He didn’t know what else to say. An hour later they had almost finished the beers. Trevor had been showing Adrian his favorite YouTube channels, most of which Adrian was unimpressed by. 

“So you don’t like any of these so far?” Trevor scoffed.

“Eh.” Adrian looked drowsy.

“What do you watch?” 

“Netflix, sometimes Hulu.”

“No, I mean on YouTube.”

“Oh. Steven Colbert. Seth Myers. Science channels sometimes. But I don’t watch a lot of Youtube.” Adrian finished his beer and stood up, collecting the empties and throwing them away. Trevor stretched, getting comfortable on the couch and putting his sock-clad feet up. 

“I wish I had Netflix. Can’t afford it,” he muttered absently, yawning. Adrian walked back over from the kitchen. He sat down next to Trevor.

“You can watch my Netflix. I don’t care. I’ll give you the login info.” 

Trevor opened his eyes and smiled a little. It was hard to see Adrian in the darkness of his apartment, but he still looked beautiful in the cold TV light.

“Thanks.”

Adrian curled up on the couch, tucking a long leg up in front of him. Trevor noticed he was playing with his black nails absentmindedly. 

“So, why don’t you have a girlfriend?” Adrian asked randomly, looking up and resting his head on the side of the couch. 

“I don’t know. I don’t really have long relationships. Neither do you, right?” He tossed back, turning his head towards the other man. 

“Well, I haven’t yet. I’d like to,” Adrian explained. Trevor had a question on the tip of his tongue. A couple questions, actually. He opened his mouth to ask, but then he changed his mind and went to the fridge to get another beer.

“Is that the last one?” Adrian asked.

“Sorry,” he grunted, cracking it open. Adrian watched Trevor take a long sip.

“Hey, what about your Monday through Wednesday rule?” He smirked.

“What?” 

“I thought you said you don’t drink from Mondays to Wednesdays. As a rule,” Adrian scolded, raising a blonde eyebrow. Trevor gave him a look that said he didn’t care.

“Oh, well. I’m breaking it today, I guess. Helping you with little rebellions, and all.” 

When he sat back on the couch he was closer than before. So close that Adrian’s legs were brushing against his. 

“Hey, wait- I bet I know one YouTuber that’ll you actually like. He’s fucking hilarious. Wait a sec.” Trevor leaned forward, grabbing the remote and finding the video he wanted. They watched a couple Scatsbury videos and Adrian was properly amused. They laughed heartily at the witty and uncouth game commentary.

“What game is this?” Adrian asked.

“Skyrim. It looks cool. I watch the playthroughs sometimes. Regular ones, not this crazy,” he laughed. Adrian scowled.

“Why don’t you just play the actual game?”

“It costs five hundred dollars for the console. And I can’t spend my money on that. I’m trying to save up enough to visit Sypha in California this summer.”

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Wait, let me show you this other one, it’s so good-” Adrian let himself stare as he searched for the right video. He noticed again the faint scar on Trevor’s face. A thin line from his forehead, down through his eyebrow to his cheek. It made his handsomeness look rugged and maybe a little dangerous. Adrian took his time taking in the shape and curves of Trevor’s face, from his strong, scarred brow, to his sharp nose and attractive, wide lips. 

“How did you get that scar?” Adrian wondered aloud, sinking deeper into the couch. Trevor turned to him.

“A fight,” he answered dismissively.

“Tell me about it.”

“Not much to tell,” Trevor shook it off, “When you’re homeless, people try to steal from you all the time. Sometimes you get in fights. One time I got the shoes stolen off my feet when I was sleeping, and I had to go barefoot for like a week.”

“Jesus Christ!” Adrian found that incredible. “Why would someone take shoes from a homeless kid? What’s wrong with the world?” Trevor laughed dryly, humorlessly. He gave Adrian a strange smirk.

“What a life you must live… you’re just now figuring out that the world isn’t fair? Do you ever think about your Dad’s company? When he puts out a new phone, he hires thousands of Chinese workers to do the manufacturing and pays them less than half of the minimum wage in the US. Two or three dollars an hour, depending. Barely enough to survive. And he banks millions and millions in profit.” Adrian’s face fell. 

“I know about it, Trevor. I’ve been to Zhengzhou. I’ve seen the factories.”

“Then you know how it is. All those people working for almost nothing, stuffing your father’s pockets. Taking away US factory jobs, getting rich off cheap labor. Crazy rich. Ridiculously rich. How much is his net worth now? Ninety-three billion dollars? Right?” Trevor was buzzed and very agitated, which was never a good combination. Adrian looked down at his hands, playing with his five hundred dollar Gucci ring in silence.

“Ninety-four billion.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. What is he now, number three?” Trevor was equally distressed and disgusted. Adrian briefly met his gaze before he averted it, too shameful.

“Yeah. It goes Jeff Bezos, Bill Gates, and then my Dad. He passed Warren Buffet last year.” They both said nothing as a very uncomfortable silence followed.

“Ninety-three billion. So that’s - what - ninety-three thousand million. Nine, three, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero…” Trevor mused, taking a long drink so he didn’t have to think much more about that fact.

“It’s insane. I know that. But - it’s not my fault, Trevor. I’m not him-” Adrian tried to defend himself.

“I know. I know you’re not,” Trevor cut in, chugging the rest of the beer and crushing it. 

“My mom, she really tries. You know she’s always telling my dad about these different charities and places to donate. I know you only read the bad articles about my dad, but he’s done some good things. Not that it makes up for everything bad he’s done, but still. He gave a hundred million last year to building wells in Africa, and fifty billion to public schools. My mom picks all these charities… UNICEF, clean water, Feed The Hungry, ending AIDS, surviving domestic abuse, even homeless shelters. We keep trying to push him to donate in larger quantities. That’s what we would do, if it was our decision. 

God, Trevor, if I inherit it all one day, I swear- I’ll make things right. I’ll try to end world hunger. I’ll end homelessness in this country. I can build a thousand apartment complexes for the homeless and let people stay there for free, with free food. I’ll buy a bunch of land and save it for nature. And more than what my mom is doing already. I mean millions of acres. I’ll try to rebuild the rainforests, I’ll do-” he sighed, “I’ll do whatever I can. I know you probably just think I’m a spoiled, selfish brat but I do donate. The other day, I sold that jacket- the blue and black sequined Saint Laurent one that I tried on for you guys. I sold it for nine thousand and I donated all of it to food shelves in New York. Anonymously. I gave five thousand to save wildlife last month. I’m trying.” Trevor grabbed Adrian’s arm, stopping him. He met his eyes.

“Adrian. I know you’re not a selfish person. I’m not angry at you, okay? You’re nice... It’s not your fault what he does. It’s not your guilt to bear. I’m sorry I’ve been an ass, it’s just, I’m mean- surely you get why this pisses me off. You go to school in a four hundred thousand dollar car with a private driver and I can’t even afford Netflix. Or to get my wisdom teeth out. It’s not your fault that I’m angry, it’s just- this wealth. Your father’s wealth, which has a lot to do with the downfall of my family’s company-” he started getting heated, but Adrian stopped him.

“I know. I’m really sorry about that Trevor. But I don’t want to talk about it. Please. It makes me feel too guilty. Even though it’s not my fault. I wish…” he drifted off.

“You wish what?”

“I wish you wouldn’t be so proud,” Adrian admitted, “I wish you’d let me get some things for you. Things you need. Not that much, just- a little? It would make me feel better. You think I don’t stay up late at night, feeling shitty that I have all this money and you can’t even get dental work done? It’s ridiculous. I know it probably feels gross taking money from me, but come on- it’s nothing to me, Trevor. I don’t need it. Just let me cover some things for you?”

“I don’t know,” Trevor grunted dismissively. He hated this discussion.

“How about I pay for some things with my own money, hm? I sold some of my art online last month and made a thousand dollars… Can I give you some of that money?”

Trevor sighed in exasperation.

“I don’t like charity. It feels like pity,” he seemed very disgruntled by the offer, “I’ll be alright, okay? I’ll make it. I always do.” He looked Adrian in the eyes, passionate and sure of himself. Like he had something to prove.

“And that’s amazing. You’re very inspiring, Trevor. But I don’t want to do this because I pity you. I want to do it because you’re my friend and I care about you. You need things. If I was pitying you, this would feel very different.” Trevor said nothing. He just stared at the coffee table in silence and wished he had a different life.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Adrian whispered, “Please. It’ll help me sleep better. You’ve been complaining about your wisdom teeth for weeks now. At least let me get that for you. Are you really so prideful that you’d rather live in pain every day than accept my money?” It was uncomfortable. It wasn’t what he wanted. But Trevor swallowed his pride, he took a deep breath, and he nodded. 

“Thank you,” Adrian sighed in relief, “I’ll get you an appointment with my dentist. She’s great. A couple weeks from now, okay?” He went to the kitchen and made a note to himself to schedule an appointment, scribbling it down on a piece of paper.

“Okay,” Trevor grunted, unhappy but relieved, “Thanks.” 

Adrian came back and sat down close beside him, putting a hand on his muscular shoulder. Trevor glanced at it, the contact unfamiliar but welcome at the same time.

“There’s no shame in having a friend who cares about you,” he insisted, and Trevor met his pretty gold gaze, full of warmth and kindness. He was shocked when Adrian came closer and hugged him, but he leaned into it, inhaling the other man’s wonderful scent. Sweet cologne and cigarettes. He let his head relax at the apex between Adrian’s neck and his shoulder, nose brushing against his supple skin. The moment was warm and soft, almost gentle. He hummed when he felt Adrian’s elegant hand running down his shoulder and his arm, touching him. Comforting him. For a moment, Trevor closed his eyes, and he truly felt safe. 

  
**A/N: Please review! It would make me so happy to hear your thoughts.**   
  


**More soon. Please come back :)**


	15. First Times For Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio go to McDonald's and do some shopping. Adrian and Sypha have date night.
> 
> [Rating M: Sexual Content]

**CHAPTER 15: First Times For Everything**

* * *

Adrian’s Outfit: -Shirt  [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/karl-lagerfeld-logo-print-slim-shirt-item-14884668.aspx?storeid=11920 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/karl-lagerfeld-logo-print-slim-shirt-item-14884668.aspx?storeid=11920)

-Black Sweatshirt  [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/ami-ami-de-coeur-sweatshirt-item-14371097.aspx?storeid=9846 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/ami-ami-de-coeur-sweatshirt-item-14371097.aspx?storeid=9846)

-Burberry Backpack  [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/burberry-watercolour-print-backpack-item-15342610.aspx?storeid=11720 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/burberry-watercolour-print-backpack-item-15342610.aspx?storeid=11720)

-Chanel Tennis Shoes  [ https://www.chanel.com/us/fashion/p/G35617Y5364610800/sneakers-velvet-calfskin-mixed-fibers/ ](https://www.chanel.com/us/fashion/p/G35617Y5364610800/sneakers-velvet-calfskin-mixed-fibers/)

* * *

Trevor Gifted

Suit

[ https://www.macys.com/shop/product/calvin-klein-black-solid-modern-fit-suit?ID=465684&CategoryID=17788 ](https://www.macys.com/shop/product/calvin-klein-black-solid-modern-fit-suit?ID=465684&CategoryID=17788)

Oxfords 

[ https://www.macys.com/shop/product/calvin-klein-mens-brodie-oxford?ID=1623718&CategoryID=70405 ](https://www.macys.com/shop/product/calvin-klein-mens-brodie-oxford?ID=1623718&CategoryID=70405)

Coat

[ https://www.macys.com/shop/product/michael-kors-mens-big-tall-madison-wool-blend-overcoat?ID=2238373&CategoryID=3763&swatchColor=Charcoal ](https://www.macys.com/shop/product/michael-kors-mens-big-tall-madison-wool-blend-overcoat?ID=2238373&CategoryID=3763&swatchColor=Charcoal)

* * *

Sypha sweater (blue version)  [ https://www.forever21.com/us/shop/catalog/product/f21/top_blouses/2000390989 ](https://www.forever21.com/us/shop/catalog/product/f21/top_blouses/2000390989)

[ https://www.forever21.com/us/shop/catalog/product/f21/bottoms/2000417147 ](https://www.forever21.com/us/shop/catalog/product/f21/bottoms/2000417147)

* * *

AirBnB Apartment for the Party

[ https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/35481836?adults=2&location=Manhattan%2C%20New%20York%2C%20NY%2C%20United%20States&source_impression_id=p3_1596209779_QzEWdnIY7bkUu4RP ](https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/35481836?adults=2&location=Manhattan%2C%20New%20York%2C%20NY%2C%20United%20States&source_impression_id=p3_1596209779_QzEWdnIY7bkUu4RP)

* * *

“And... _Done!_ ” Sypha exclaimed, a bright smile lighting up her face. The trio had just completed an important coding project a day before the deadline thanks to Adrian solving every difficult problem they had. Trevor and Sypha tried to help out when they could, but Adrian carried the brunt of the work because he was simply better. Coding came to him like a second language. 

“Thank _God_ ,” Trevor groaned, sighing in relief, “I’m starving. Let’s get food.”

Sypha put her laptop in her colorful canvas tote bag that said ‘Smashing The Patriarchy’.

“Where should we go?” 

“McDonald’s! McDonald’s! McDonald’s!” Trevor whisper-shouted with an impish smile because they were in a library on campus. Sypha laughed and Adrian made a face.

“I don’t know,” the blonde declined, shaking his head. 

“What, aren’t you hungry? We’ve been working on this since one! Let’s go get burgers.”

“No, thanks. I don’t eat red meat, really. I’m trying to stop eating red meat altogether.” Adrian shut his sleek CTC computer and slid it into his black and white Burberry backpack.

“They have chicken nuggets, and chicken sandwiches,” Sypha suggested, “that’s what I get. I don’t like burgers.” Adrian said nothing for a while but his face showed his discomfort at the idea.  _ Chicken- nuggets? No. Just- No. _

“Have you ever eaten at McDonald’s in your life?” Trevor whispered, and Adrian met his eyes uncomfortably. 

“No, I haven’t.”  _ Why would I? Gross. _

“What!? Not even once?” Sypha was baffled.

“I heard it’s really bad for you. It’s not healthy,” Adrian tried to defend himself, but Trevor wasn’t taking it. He leaned in, brows furrowed.

“ _You smoke!_ What the hell? How are some french fries worse than literally inhaling tar into your lungs? You don’t care about the health aspect. I think you just don’t want to mingle with us commoners. Don’t want to eat with the peasants,” he mocked, teasing him. Adrian rolled his eyes.

“That’s not it. My driver’s here. Are we really going to take my car into a McDonald’s parking lot?” He looked a little disgusted at the idea. But Trevor was resolved. They were going.

“Yup! Come on, you have to try it. It’s an American tradition- no, an American _obligation_ to try McDonald’s at least once. If you hate it, we can go eat somewhere else,” Trevor insisted, finishing packing his things away. Adrian sighed.

“Okay. Let’s go.” 

After a brief ride in Adrian’s elegant Rolls Royce Cullinan, they arrived at McDonald’s and parked in the lot. Adrian scowled a little at the neon double arches as they entered. It was foreign territory. Smells of stale fries, cleaning solution, and children’s sweat permeated the air. Sypha looked at him over her shoulder. He did seem out of place, she supposed, in his $1,000 Chanel sneakers and perfect black and white outfit. He looked very fashionable wearing a plain black sweatshirt over a white Karl Lagerfeld button-down shirt with black joggers. A black and white Burberry bag was slung over his shoulder. Against the cheap furniture and artificial lighting, he seemed like a prince who had gotten very, very lost. Sypha grabbed his hand because she thought his expression looked a little like a deer stuck in headlights. He smiled awkwardly and she could tell from his face that he didn’t want to eat in such a place, but she encouraged him anyway.

“We can get a big order of chicken nuggets and fries and share them. Do you want a drink?” Sypha smiled. Adrian watched Trevor order a burger.

“Ah, no, just water.”

“Tap or bottled?”

“Bottled. _Definitely._ ” He kept his voice quiet, looking around. Sypha thought it was crazy she knew a person who had never tried real fast food. It was also sort of funny. She tried not to giggle watching his little expressions. They ordered and grabbed a free booth. Sypha sat next to Adrian and laid out the ketchup and ranch while Trevor ate, messy as usual. 

“Trevor,” Sypha scolded, looking up at him, “Manners, please. Remember?” He rolled his blue eyes.

“Yes, your highness.”

“Good boy,” Sypha smiled, dipping a french fry in ketchup. Adrian was just sitting there, still and awkward, looking between Sypha, Trevor, and the cheap food in front of them. 

“Go ahead. Try a fry!” Sypha pushed. Trevor put down his burger to watch Adrian eat something off a dollar menu, because it was a hilarious concept to him. If Adrian ever ate anything around them it was always organic or expensive. Fresh and never processed. When he drank water it was from an Evian bottle. But Adrian did try the food, albeit apprehensively. He dipped a fry in a little bit of ketchup and they watched him chew. 

“It’s fine,” he muttered. Sypha pushed the chicken nuggets towards him.

“Try a nugget, too,” she giggled, watching the billionaire part-time model take one and eat it. His lips were held back in a slight grimace.

“Intentalo (Try it).” He chewed and swallowed.

“What do you think?”  _ Argh. Yuck. Ugh.  _ He schooled his face to be neutral.

“It’s kind of artificial. And it doesn’t really taste like chicken,” he shrugged.

“Come on, they’re good,” Trevor rebuked, reaching across to steal a nugget.  _ You can have them. Ew.  _

“Hey!” Sypha protested, trying to guard her nuggets. Trevor grabbed one anyway.

“What? It’s not like Prince Pouty is gonna eat ‘em.” 

“I loathe that nickname,” Adrian sighed.

“Loathe?” Trevor scoffed, “Who are you, Shakespeare?”

“Come on, Trevor. Tell us, how was your game?” Sypha changed the topic.

“We didn’t have one, remember? They didn’t come because of bad weather. We just had longer practice than usual.” 

“Okay, so how did practice go?” She popped a fry in her mouth. Adrian tried to relax, finding it difficult to get comfortable on the hard plastic bench beneath him.  _ I don’t want to touch anything in here. It probably hasn’t been cleaned in hours. There are fingerprints all over, and -is that gum under the table?  _ Trevor groaned a little, taking a sip of his Coke.

“Not good. I was distracted, and my coach- well, whatever. It’s fine. I’ll do better next time,” Trevor tried to gloss over it, but Sypha wanted to know. 

“Why were you distracted?” She asked nicely, ignorantly, and leaned over to Adrian, offering him a fry and smiling sweetly up at him. Trevor watched Adrian smile down at her, hatred for the cheap restaurant fading when he saw her sweet face smiling up at him. He took the fry and Sypha looked back to Trevor, sitting a little closer to Adrian than she had before. Trevor didn’t comment, he tried not to think about how close they were. How happy they looked.

“Headache,” he lied, looking down at his crappy burger and taking a bite.

“And Adrian, how is practicing going? For the concert?” She turned to look at him, nibbling on a fry.

“Pretty well. I think I’m ready.”

“Do you get nervous in front of all those people?” Sypha asked.

“Ah, not really, no. I suppose just the hour before, when I’m nervous about making a mistake. When I’m backstage. But not too much. I’ve had people watching me all my life. You kind of get used to it.” 

“Because you’re so hot?” Trevor snorted, and Adrian made a face.

“ _No_ ,” he rebuked, “Because of my parents. And because I show up to school in a Rolls Royce.”  _ People always watch me. _

“But Trevor’s partly right. You’re so beautiful people can’t help but stare at you,” Sypha flirted, and Adrian couldn’t help but blush a little. 

“Get a room,” Trevor groaned in annoyance at their obvious flirting, stuffing his mouth with fries. Sypha shot him a look.

“Are you guys coming to the concert?” Adrian asked, “Have you decided? It’s next weekend.” Sypha nodded happily.

“Yeah, I can come! Trevor, you have to come to. We came to your last game. And we’ll come to more. You have to go to Adrian’s concert, that’s what friends do,” she pushed him, determined. He raised his hands and his eyebrows.

“All right, all right. I promise, cross my heart,” he mimed the expression, “I’ll be there.” 

“Where are we going to stay? Your penthouse?” Sypha asked. Adrian shook his head.

“I’ll get us a place for the weekend. An Airbnb apartment. So we can have privacy. We can have a party, if you want,” he offered.

“Ooh! I’m excited,” Sypha giggled, jumping in her seat a little. Her blue earrings swayed with her movement and Adrian chuckled at her antics. Adrian searched until he found one that he liked. He reserved it on his phone while they ate. 

“Okay, I got a place for the weekend. Thursday night through Sunday. I don’t have class on Friday, so I’ll go over on Thursday night. I should take some time alone to study and to practice for the concert. Then you two can join me on Saturday. And we can all fly back together.”

“What does it look like?” Sypha asked, leaning over to get a look. Adrian showed her the rental: a luxurious duplex apartment with floor to ceiling windows encompassing two stories. It was furnished with white and gold modern, expensive furniture and art. The skyline was visible all around the apartment, offering an amazing view of the city and the river.

“Oh my God! _Ah_ ,” Sypha almost squealed, grabbing Adrian’s arm, “Look at the view. It’s so big! I can’t wait!” Adrian smiled and gave Trevor his phone so he could check out the place. It had skyscraper views of New York City on all sides, and you could see for miles. Everything looked modern and white, like his own apartment. Rich people's apartments. Trevor searched for the price.

“Eighteen hundred dollars a night. Jesus-” Sypha gasped softly.

“Are you serious? Adrian! You didn’t need to do that-” she protested quietly and Trevor laughed, cutting her off.

“Sypha, do you even understand how much money he has? His Dad is the third richest person _in the whole world_ ,” Trevor cut in rudely, making Adrian glare at him.

“Please don’t say that so loudly,” he scolded in a whisper. “I like having some sense of anonymity.”

“Just saying,” Trevor shrugged, “it is a great view.”

“Is that true?” Sypha turned to Adrian and looked at him a little differently.  _ Trevor, why did you have to-? _

“Yes,” he sighed, like an admission of guilt. 

“Dracula’s net worth is 94 Billion, Sypha,” Trevor whispered, and Sypha’s mouth fell open, “Why do you think Adrian feels so weird eating in a McDonald’s?” A strange silence passed and Adrian ate a chicken nugget just to spite him, internally cringing at the artificial taste. 

“I didn’t know that,” Sypha muttered, opening her water bottle, thinking about it.  _ Please don’t treat me differently. God. Why did Trevor have to say that? She didn’t know.  _ After a moment Sypha turned to look at Adrian and she grabbed his hand under the table surreptitiously. She could tell he looked worried.

“It doesn’t change the way we think of you. Obviously, we’re not friends with you for that reason. We took you to McDonald’s,” she joked, and Adrian and Trevor laughed. 

“The apartment is beautiful. How many bedrooms?”

“Two bedrooms with queen beds. We can share,” he looked to Sypha, “Or someone can take a couch. There are a couple living rooms.”

“No, we can share, it’s fine,” Sypha responded quickly, leaning back over to Adrian to look at the apartment again. Her smile was infectious but Trevor couldn’t help but notice how quickly she had jumped at the idea to get in bed with him. 

“I don’t know how to get there,” Trevor blurted.

“It’s in the Flatiron District. Why don’t you come out on Saturday with Sypha? We can spend Sunday together in the city, then we can fly back.” Trevor agreed, and Adrian arranged the flights quickly enough. Trevor ate a few of Adrian’s McNuggets because the blonde was certainly not interested.

“Done. I texted my driver and told him to pick you two up at eleven-thirty that Saturday. He’ll take you to the airport. And- one sec,” he reached into his wallet and casually handed over a few hundred dollar bills to Sypha, “this is for your bags and carfare when you get to the city. And if you get hungry. Just get a taxi from JFK and tell them to take you to 22nd and Park.” Sypha looked down at the three hundred-dollar bills in her hand with eyes blown wide. She nodded, putting them away in her own wallet.

“ _Okay._ Thanks. I’ll give you back whatever we don’t need. Did you want to have a party? If you do, I know some people in the city. I have some friends there. Not a lot, but maybe ten or twelve.”  _ Wow, she has a lot of friends. Why not? _

“Sure. I still have one friend in the city, Jean-Georges, I could call him. He loves parties... He’ll bring drugs. Trevor will love that,” Adrian chuckled and Trevor raised his eyebrows. 

“Don’t give him any ideas,” Sypha scolded comically, “I don’t want to wheel him home in a cart.” Adrian put his hands up.

“Okay. I didn’t say that. Nevermind.”

“I’m so excited! I think I’ll wear my red dress with the nice boots you bought me. Ah-” she was bursting with excitement, making Adrian chuckle, “you’re going to do great!” Trevor looked between the two of them, so obviously happy with each other. He gulped down some of his soda to try and wash away the lump in his throat.

“I don’t have anything to wear to a concert. Unless it’s considered acceptable to go in a t-shirt and jeans,” Trevor droned. Adrian raised an eyebrow.

“Ah, no. No, it’s not. We can go to the mall after you guys are done eating. I’ll get you an outfit to wear. You can just return it afterward if you want. And I’ll send you the flight info.” After Trevor and Sypha finished their meal, and Adrian finished sitting there uncomfortably, they went to the mall. The driver dropped them off and the trio went inside.

“Let’s go to Macy’s. I’ll get you a suit,” Adrian directed them, walking quickly.

“Can I still steal something?” Trevor teased from behind his shoulder.

“No,” Adrian whisper-yelled, giving him a  _ look _ .

“Dios mío,” Sypha chuckled. They shopped for a while in Macy’s while Adrian picked an outfit for him. He pulled a suit out from a rack and inspected it. Black slim-cut.

“Here, we’ll do this Calvin Klien for you. What size pants?” 

“Thirty-four, I think,” Trevor muttered, looking at the suit jacket. He grimaced at the hefty price tag. 

“You know, I’d be fine in something from the clearance rack,” he pushed, clearly uncomfortable. Adrian gave him a look, peering up at him from under long eyelashes.

“You’re too handsome for the clearance rack.” Trevor looked embarrassed at the blunt compliment, almost blushing, and Sypha laughed happily at the interchange.

“Aww! It’s true,” she flirted along with Adrian. Trevor made a face that said they were embarrassing him. He crossed his arms in protest, but deep down he loved that they were fussing over him. Trevor tried on a couple suits but ended up going with a white button-down shirt and a black Calvin Klien suit. When he came out of the dressing room in the full ensemble they both whistled at him and made jokes. Trevor pretended like he didn’t love being the center of their attention.

“Your ass looks good in those,” Sypha teased seriously, “Let’s get ‘em!” Trevor laughed. 

“I like the shoes, too. Wait - wait I’ll be right back,” Adrian urged, getting up to go find something. He returned minutes later with a beautiful Michael Kors Big &Tall black wool overcoat. Sypha swooned.

“It’s beautiful! Put it on, put it on,” she urged. Trevor made a face but he accepted, pulling it over his coat. He looked in the tri-fold mirror, turning around. Adrian stood to the side, watching him move in front of the mirror in the stunning coat. He was tall and strongly built, and yet his movements were still quite elegant. He had a soft step and fluid movements. Tan skin, blue eyes, sharp jaw, dark hair. He turned and looked over his shoulder to see the back of the coat, his ruggedly handsome profile on display. 

“Wow,” Adrian sighed, and when Trevor’s gaze snapped to meet his in the mirror, Adrian realized he had said it out loud.  _ Shit! _

“I think you look like James Bond. Get it. I wish I had my camera. I’d take a picture of you. But I’ll definitely remember it next weekend. I’ll take photos of you both!” She jumped up, pulling on the coat to get it to lay right. Trevor tried to avoid Adrian’s eye contact.

“It’s nice. But I really don’t need it. I have a coat.”

“You have an old Walmart coat that’s falling apart. Come, you’re getting it,” Sypha adjusted the jacket, pulling it just right, “You’re going to come home from the city with a new girlfriend, that’s for sure. Ladies are going to jump on you.” Trevor snorted. A few minutes later Adrian went to the checkout and bought the clothes while Trevor and Sypha went to wait for the car. He didn’t want Trevor to comment on the total price. And he threw in a wallet for good measure.  _ I wish I could get him more, but he’d protest. He has a lot of pride. _

On the ride back to the university, Adrian went on his phone while Trevor played with the seat control buttons in the back row, trying to warm his backside to the perfect temperature. Sypha looked over from the window at the pretty blonde man.

“Whatcha doing?” Sypha asked in a sing-song voice. Adrian groaned lightly.

“Trying to talk my Dad out of buying a private jet,” he complained casually, like it was an everyday annoyance. Sypha pursed her lips, trying not to laugh.

“Oh. Of course, you are,” she laughed in perplexity, making a face at him.

“Why are you talking him out of it? What- you don’t want to fly around in a fancy private jet?” Trevor spoke up from the back seat.

“It’s bad for the environment,” he muttered.

“Isn’t this car bad for the environment?” Sypha tossed back quietly. Adrian looked at her and nodded, putting his phone down.

“Yeah, but he bought this too. It’s not mine. I’m just using it for now. If I could, I’d trade it in for a Tesla. Electric.”  _ But I don’t make those kinds of decisions. _

“Yeah, I don’t think Daddy Drac is gonna care much about the environment. His plants in China are horrible. Putting out tons of carbon emissions every year, harming the wildlife,” Trevor chimed in, adding his daily dash of Dracula-hatred to the conversation. Adrian pursed his lips.  _ Thanks for that. _

“I know,” Adrian sighed sadly, pocketing his phone and leaning back with a despondent expression on his face.

“Is he listening to you?” Sypha wondered.

“No. He’s going to get it… says he’s been putting it off for too long. He wants privacy,” he looked over to Sypha, “and he’s asking Jeff Bezos for recommendations.”

“Oh my God.” She couldn’t believe his life. It was so foreign to her. “It sounds like you’re joking when you say things like that, Adrian. But- you’re serious.”

“I am.” 

“Are they friends?” Trevor wondered, leaning in from the back seat.

“Sort of, I guess. They’re not really close, or anything. But they have a very similar life in a lot of ways. They both became multi-billionaires very, very quickly, relatively speaking, so they can understand each other’s lives and that sort of thing. And Jeff sells CTC devices on Amazon, of course. So they have that connection.”

“I suppose so,” Sypha muttered, looking around the Rolls Royce and at Adrian’s private driver. They stopped in front of the school, Eduardo getting out to open the door for them.

“I have to go, guys. I’m sorry. I have some things to do,” Adrian apologized. 

“No worries! We’ll hang out soon,” Sypha smiled and gave him a Spanish goodbye kiss.

“See you later. Thanks for the outfit. I’ll just take it back after the concert,” Trevor thanked him, giving a slight smile as he got out of the car. 

“Goodbye.” He waved as his driver shut the door. When they were on the road again, Adrian thought of something. 

“Eduardo, can we stop at Target, please?” He asked. 

“Of course. Do you want me to come in with you?”

“No, that’s okay. I won’t be long.” Adrian entered by himself. He didn’t feel the need to have a bodyguard with him at all times, anyway, despite his family urging him to. People didn’t recognize him anyway. He navigated the white and red aisles, grabbing a few things he wanted and putting them in the basket. Lip balm, lotion, a candle. Then he found the aisle he was actually looking for. Making sure no one was in sight, he started browsing. A loud noise startled him after a minute. His cell phone ringtone.  _ Shit. _

[calling: Mom]

“Hey, Mom,” he answered softly, hoping his voice wouldn’t draw attention.

“Hi, darling. How are you?” Lisa asked sweetly. Adrian looked over the selection in front of him, overwhelmed and uncomfortable with the myriads of brands and varieties.

“I’m good.”

“Me too. What are you up to?” She was clearly in the mood to talk, but Adrian was definitely not. He sighed softly.

“I was just hanging out with my friends. Now I’m- shopping.” He picked up a box of Durex condoms before quickly putting them back, glancing over his shoulder to see if anyone was looking at him. He was too distracted to be having a conversation.

“Good, good. Glad to hear it. What are you getting?” She asked, but Adrian’s thoughts were occupied.  _ Ultra-thin, Latex, Lubricated, Ultra Sensitive, Her Pleasure, Flavored. Flavored!? Wha- _

“Adrian?” She repeated louder, “What are you getting?”

“Uh- socks,” Adrian responded, too quickly. Lisa laughed a little.

“Very interesting. Well, I’m wondering if you’re going to come to the house this weekend? I looked and there’s a flight at eight you could take. Or, do you already have plans?” Adrian picked up a box of Trojan’s ‘Her Pleasure Lubricated’ condoms and quickly threw them in the basket. 

“Oh. I have plans. I’m sorry, Mom. I’ll see you at the performance.” 

“Okay. Of course… I’m curious. What are your plans?”  _ You assume I have no friends. _

“Ah- having dinner with my friend Sypha,” he explained, a little awkwardly.

“You mean girlfriend?” Lisa teased playfully. Adrian groaned.  _ Dad told her I bet. _

“ _ Maybe _ .” Lisa chuckled.

“Alright, honey. I’ll leave you alone then. Enjoy your weekend,” she laughed.

“Bye, mom.” Adrian hung up the phone and got back to the task at hand.  _ Should I get lube?  _ He looked at the little colorful bottles.  _ Ah, so many choices. What the hell is this? Couple’s vibrating ring? What does that even mean? Fingertip vibrator? Vibrating bullet? ...bullet? God, I don’t know what I’m doing. _

He picked up a small bottle and looked at the text.  _ Why are there so many options? Tingling? Pleasure gel? Aloe vera? Ugh. Why do they make it so complicated? I’ll just get a normal one.  _ He tossed a normal, clear bottle of lube into the basket.  _ Should I get anything else? Am I forgetting something? Maybe I should get more food. No, Maria already stocked the fridge. Did she get everything? Ah, I shouldn’t be so nervous about this.  _ He took a deep breath and went to the checkout, arranging everything in his head.

* * *

[Saturday]

Adrian (6:12 pm) Hey, Sypha! Do you want to come over tonight? I just finished studying. We can make dinner if you want to.

Sypha (6:13 pm) Yeah, sounds great ;) I have some more reading to do but I can do it tomorrow

Adrian (6:13 pm) Great, I’ll send my driver to pick you up now. Is that okay?

Sypha (6:15 pm) Mhmm!

* * *

Soon she was standing in Adrian’s fabulous kitchen in her fuzzy socks, watching him sort out ingredients on the counter. Lemons, fresh rosemary, Italian olives, two whole fish, spinach.

“What are we making?” Sypha was very happy with this picture: a gorgeous man cooking for her in the kitchen with the sun setting behind him. He moved to open a cabinet, searching for something.

“Grilled branzino with lemons and olives. Sauteed spinach on the side,” he explained, setting olive oil on the counter. Sexy R&B music played on Adrian’s CTC console, filling the room. Frank Ocean’s seductive voice was putting her in a good mood.

“You seem to know what you’re doing.” She smiled at him as he moved around, prepping dinner.

“I like to cook,” he shrugged, smiling back at her. She stepped in closer to him.

“Do you need any help?” 

“Here, you can help me prepare the fish,” he ushered her over to the two whole Branzino fish on cutting boards, “Drizzle the outside with olive oil, then open the fish and salt and pepper the inside like this,” he showed her, “And stuff it with lemons and rosemary. A little garlic.” She watched him easily prepare the fillet, envious of his talent at everything. Eventually, she followed suit and they put the fish on the grill.

“I’ll make the spinach.” He moved around the kitchen, grabbing things he needed and cooking. Sypha sat at a barstool and watched him. He wore a loose long-sleeved white button-down with black jeans. Some of his hair was tucked behind an ear and she spotted a little gold hoop earring. Simple and elegant. She loved looking at him.

“Aren’t you supposed to have a towel flung over your shoulder?” Sypha teased, smirking at him. Adrian was sauteing butter and garlic.

“What?” He looked up from the pan. 

“That’s how men cook in the movies,” Sypha explained, “With the towel over their shoulder.” Adrian paused, then he dramatically flung the dishtowel over his shoulder and gave her a look. She laughed.

“Very nice,” she flirted, “I could cast you right now.”

“Do you want anything to drink? We can have white wine with the fish, but if you want a cocktail, that’s fine too.”

“White wine sounds great! I’ll get it. You’re busy.”

“It’s in the wine fridge. The opener is in that drawer there.”

Sypha corked the bottle and poured some of the chilled wine into his nice glasses.

“Do you want to sit at the table?”

“Yeah. That’s good.”

“I’ll set it- you finish with the food. No soy un buen chef (I’m not a great chef).”

“Really?”

“I can do eggs. And spaghetti. But no, I’m pretty terrible at cooking. Cometer errores (make mistakes). I always mess something up. Dump all the salt in, forget the garlic, burn the butter. You know how it goes,” she laughed, “Or, maybe you don’t, because you’re good at everything.” Adrian exhaled harshly, serving up the spinach while Sypha set the table.

“I’m really not. I promise.” Sypha found it hard to believe.

“Really? Name one thing you’re bad at,” she teased him.

“Basketball.” She shrugged.

“Okay, I’m bad at that too. Name something else.”

“Um… Relationships, I suppose.” Sypha walked over to him, grabbing the plates and setting them down at the table.

“Why do you say that?”

“I’ve never had a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend. Most of my friendships don’t end up working out. I cut them off or they leave me. And my relationship with my Dad is… complicated, to say the least.” Sypha hummed, thinking about it.

“Well, not everybody our age has dated yet. In fact, a good amount of people haven’t. It’s not that unusual. Trevor’s never had a girlfriend. And I have lots of friends who haven’t dated before. As far as the friend thing goes, what do you mean? Why’d you cut them off?” Adrian sighed as he got their wine glasses and brought them to the table.

“I want to be with people who actually care about me and have interesting things to say. People who don’t have an agenda with me. Most so-called ‘friends’ I meet just want to get to my money, or my Dad, and they want me to spoil them or give them, you know, connections. I can see through that shit better now, and I don’t let them into my life. Or I try not to. I’d rather my circle be small than fool myself into conflating people’s love of my wealth with their love of me. I’ve made that mistake before…” he began to drift off and Sypha came up to him, running her hands over his shoulders to hold his neck, pulling him in. Adrian looked down and locked eyes with her, appreciating the sweetness of her gaze and her smile.

“Adrian, I hear you. I promise you don’t have to get me anything at all. It’s nice, but I don’t need anything. You don’t need to get me any gifts or trips or anything. I just want to spend time with you... I think you’re amazing,” she sighed and Adrian felt like he was melting. Sypha drew him into a passionate kiss, her lips meeting his with urgency and desire. He held her close to his body and kissed her back without remorse, forgetting about everything else. When she pulled away he was a little flushed and she smiled at that. Suddenly she turned to sit down at the table, leaving him in want.

“Come, sit. Let’s have dinner,” she patted his chair, and he threw the towel on the kitchen counter before he joined her. They ate and talked through the evening, laughing and flirting. Sypha complimented his wonderful cooking. Adrian was feeling more relaxed after a couple of glasses of wine. They finished the dinner and Adrian surprised her with dessert. Italian gelato in tiny, colorful bowls. Sypha made a noise of excitement when she saw it.

“Ah! They’re so cute. I love the little bowls, where did you get them?”

“Portofino, in Italy.” 

“Ah,” she sighed, “I would love to go there. I’ve seen pictures. That’s the place with all the colorful houses on the hill, right? By the water?”

“Yes. It’s beautiful there. Do you want a drink?” 

“Sure! A cosmopolitan?” She moved into the kitchen with him, gelatos in hand.

“Coming right up,” he smiled, getting to work making the drinks. He took out two martini glasses and a martini mixer, then he added ice, lime juice, vodka, triple-sec, and cranberry juice. He shook the mixer for a while and poured the contents into their glasses.

“Who taught you how to make cocktails? You’re good,” she complimented, taking the pink drink from him after he garnished it with a lime wedge, “thank you.”

“My old friends. From high school… Upper East-Siders. They would get their butlers or their drivers to get alcohol for us, and we would make drinks whenever their parents were out of the house. Actually, no, we’d make them out in the open. Nobody really cares. People at my high school showed up to classes drunk and no one said anything. We just laughed.”

“Normal rules don’t apply?” Sypha thought. Adrian nodded.

“Yeah. Pretty much. How does it taste?” 

“Good! And it’s great with the gelato.” They ate together at the counter.

“Thanks.”

“How was your night with Trevor? He told me that you had a nice time,” Sypha wondered, taking a spoonful of gelato.

“It was good. He-” Adrian wanted to talk about Trevor dropping his pride and accepting his money, but he had promised he wouldn’t talk about it, so he didn’t- “He took me out for some rebellious activity. Buying beers with a fake ID. His, of course,” Adrian laughed with Sypha. 

“Did he ask about us?” She was very curious. Adrian inhaled, nodding.

“He did. He asked if we had sex when we were in the city, and I told him the truth. I told him no.” Sypha blinked, dropping her spoon. She didn’t know Trevor would just straight-out ask him. It made her wonder.

“Oh. Did he drop it after that?”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Good. Hopefully that can buy us some time.”

_ Why does she want to keep this a secret so badly? _

“Well, when we’re in the city again, for the performance, he might suspect something. I mean, yesterday you said you wanted to sleep in the same bed as me. I saw his expression. He looked suspicious about it.” Sypha sighed.

“Well, he seems better now. I guess we can tell him if it comes about. I just- I prefer to have things be more private early on. Less pressure from other people. Less questions, you know?” She finished her gelato.

“Or maybe you just like sneaking around,” Adrian muttered, putting the bowls in the sink. Sypha smirked at him suggestively.

“Well, yes… I do. It’s hot.” Her impish gaze told him everything he needed to know about that. He tried not to blush. Sypha picked up her cocktail and stood up, adjusting her mini skirt with her free hand. She looked very cute in her tight blue cropped sweater and black frilly skirt. Adrian had trouble taking his eyes off her, and Sypha could tell. She liked it.

“Do you want to move to the couch?” She suggested, walking away and looking back at him over her shoulder. Adrian took his eyes off her shapely legs and mini skirt, nodding. 

“What should we listen to?” He approached the CTC player. It was dark outside and he turned on the soft lantern lights on the balcony.

“Lana del Rey.” Sypha put her feet up on the coffee table.

“I love her,” he muttered, putting on the Born To Die record. They talked for the better part of an hour and talked amicably. Conversation flowed on and drifted away. The moon hung low in the sky when Sypha leaned in to kiss him, pulling him into her embrace. Adrian tried not to think, tried not to let his inhibitions get in the way of his happiness yet again. He kissed her back with burning desire, and pulled her up on his lap. Million Dollar Man played in the background, the sensual rasp of Lana’s voice pulling them in, stirring something too deep inside to name. Sypha wrapped herself around him and she felt almost like a wave, crashing against him. 

_ You said I was the most exotic flower _

_ Holding me tight in our final hour _

“Have you been thinking about me since that night?” She whispered in between kisses, opening the top buttons on his shirt. Adrian glanced down at her wet, kiss bitten lips.

“Of course I have,” he replied, velvety and rough at the same time. He stroked her bare thighs as she leaned back in to kiss him.

_ I don't know how you convince them and get them, but _

_ I don't know what you do, it's unbelievable _

_ And I don't know how you get over, get over _

_ Someone as dangerous, tainted and flawed as you _

Deep inside him, there was want. There was desire, urgency, lust. They were emotions he was very unfamiliar with expressing. Sypha had been in his mind for weeks, but that night in the club, it changed everything. She had been his, if only for a few hours. So close, so warm. He longed to feel that again. To have her body next to his. To lose everything but the moment and concentrate only on the pleasure. On their pleasure. Sypha stroked his chest and kissed him, rougher than usual, pressing firmly against his lips in a silent indicator of her desire for him, her passion. She ran her nails down his scalp, grasped his hair, moved her hips against him. Adrian wrapped his arms around her tightly, like she might fly away if he let her go. And he didn’t want to ever let her go. 

_ One for the money, and two for the show _

_ I love you honey, I'm ready, I'm ready to go _

_ How did you get that way, I don't know _

_ You're screwed up and brilliant _

_ And look like a million dollar man _

They kissed until they were both out of breath, and Sypha leaned back in his lap, breaking from his embrace to pull off her tight sweater. Adrian’s eyes went wide, his heart started to beat even faster. She was beautiful and young and everything he wanted.  _ God.  _ He pulled her in again, unable to help himself. She was too beautiful. He kissed her hard, pulling her hair a little, tilting her head back. Licking her throat, tasting her. She worked on the rest of his shirt buttons, hastily, desperately, taking it off and throwing it to the side. Sypha had been waiting for this. She was burning for this. He felt so good, so hard, so warm against her. She needed him. A sigh escaped her lips when he palmed one of her breasts through her bra, cupping it in his hand and feeling her for the first time. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

_ You got the world, but baby at what price? _

_ Something so strange, hard to define _

Adrian couldn’t take his eyes off her as she reached back to open the clasp of her bra, taking it off slowly, letting it fall. His head was spinning and not from the drinks. He couldn’t believe this was happening. She was gorgeous, she was on his lap, she wanted him. 

_ It isn't that hard boy to like you or love you _

_ I'd follow you down, down, down _

He took his time touching her, kissing her skin, appreciating every inch of her. He kissed her neck and her shoulders, her collarbones, and her chest, the space between her breasts. Sypha let out little mewls of contentment as he teased her nipples, sucking on them in a way that made her toes curl.

_ You're unbelievable _

_ If you're going crazy, just grab me and take me _

_ I'd follow you down, down, down, anywhere, anywhere _

“Ah,” she sighed, leaning back down to kiss his pretty lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighed in between kisses. Sypha smiled, running her small hands down his hard chest and toned arms.

“So are you.” She looked into his gold eyes, looking as deeply as she could. His eyes were bright, and alive, and surprised. She leaned in, and repeated his actions. She laid kisses to his lips, his neck, his broad chest, and further down. Adrian gasped a little, heart pounding in his chest. It was dark and loud, the sounds of his hard breathing and the music around them. He froze as he watched small form moving down, knees on the blue carpet, and her soft humming as she ran her hand up his thigh, teasing him. Tempting him. She pushed his legs apart.  _ Ahh. Oh, God.  _ She kissed the skin of his taut stomach, and he flexed under her touch. 

“Do you want to keep going?” She asked, blinking up at him with beautiful blue eyes and pouty red lips. Adrian nodded quickly. She unzipped his fly and before he knew what was happening she was pulling the last of his clothes down and he was naked before her. The air on his skin was new, unfamiliar, and he tried to relax, but she was moving much quicker than he had expected. He had never been totally naked in front of any woman, and it embarrassed him a little, even in his own apartment, even after a decent amount of wine. But Sypha was smiling, kissing him. She started at the inner corner of his knee, moving inward, lips and tongue brushing his thigh. She took him in her hand, she wrapped her hand around him.

“Ah,” he gasped, chest rising and falling quickly at the foreign contact. He looked down at Sypha with surprise and want. When she teased him with her tongue and took him in her mouth, he let out a faint moan mixed with a gasp.

“Oh my God.” 

“Just relax,” she urged him softly, “Close your eyes. Lean back.” He did as he was told, letting his head fall back, trying to calm down and enjoy it. She was very, very talented with her mouth, knowing exactly what he wanted without him even having to tell her. 

“You’re so big. Wow,” she muttered, taking him in her mouth again. She had him on the edge of his seat, toes curling in pleasure. She stroked him and licked him until he could barely take it. 

“Sypha! Fuck,” he gasped, out of breath. She smiled, stroking him a few more times before climbing up on his lap. He startled, caught in unfamiliar territory. They kissed for a while more and Sypha guided his hands so he would explore her body, touching her everywhere she wanted. The sensations were all new to him, and he froze again when she took his hand and guided him up under her skirt, pressing his fingers against her. He leaned in to kiss her softly and pleasured her through her little pink panties. She moaned into his mouth and grinded against his hand.  _ Oh fuck. Fuck.  _ She stood up suddenly, stepping out of her skirt. She kissed his lips and grabbed his hand, smiling sweetly. 

“Let’s go to your room.” She certainly didn’t seem nervous. Adrian envied her for that.

“Yeah,” he exhaled, following behind her, watching her peel off her socks and drop them on the floor. She looked back at him over her shoulder, standing naked in his hallway.

“Can you get a condom?” She walked into his bedroom. “I’ll put on some music in your room.” The Lana record had ended and it was quiet and dark in his apartment.

“Yeah, one sec,” Adrian nodded quickly, ducking into his bathroom and exhaling sharply. He was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to catch his breath. He had never been with a woman and the thought stressed him out because he felt out of his depth. When he searched in his drawers for a condom he tried not to panic. He worried about disappointing her and embarrassing himself.  _ Calm down.  _ He took a deep breath, then another. He told himself he wouldn’t ruin this. After grabbing a condom and some lube, he went back into his bedroom.

_ Holy-  _ Sypha was laying on his big, white bed in nothing but a little pink thong, laying on her side and looking back at him over her shoulder, challenging him with the view of her elegant back, small waist, and curvy backside. Only the bedside lamp was turned on, and the soft light highlighted her bare form beautifully. Her skin was creamy and soft with freckles scattered over her shoulders and arms. A few small tattoos decorated her skin. 

“You’re so beautiful, Sypha.” 

Everything was a rush. He was on the bed, she was reaching up to kiss him, to pull him closer. A familiar track played in the background of Sypha’s choosing, “Earned It”.

_ You make it look like it's magic _

_ 'Cause I see nobody, nobody but you, you, you _

_ I'm never confused _

_ Hey, hey _

_ I'm so used to being used _

Sypha ran her fingers through his long hair, pushing it back. She noticed a feeling of uncertainty and something else in Adrian’s golden eyes. Excitement or fear, she wasn’t sure. So she just kissed him and hummed against his lips as he experimented with her bare skin, running his hands down her small, feminine form, exploring her, feeling her sweet, soft curves.

_ So I'ma care for you, you, you _

_ I'ma care for you, you, you, you, yeah _

_ 'Cause girl you're perfect _

_ You're always worth it _

_ And you deserve it _

_ The way you work it _

_ 'Cause girl, you earned it _

  
  
  


She leaned in to whisper into his ear. “You can touch me,” he guided him, “here. Go ahead.” Adrian did as he was told, massaging her gently through the fabric, kissing her collarbones and up her neck. Sypha leaned into the sensation, fully enjoying it, encouraging him. She closed her eyes and relaxed, sighing in pleasure. But too soon she grew impatient and grabbed him by the neck, pulling him in for a crashing, forceful kiss. She could tell Adrian was struggling with being titillated so much so she shifted to be fully underneath him, finishing the foreplay.

“Take it off.” Adrian blinked up at her and then obeyed. He hooked his finger on the side of the lace and pulled the pink thong down, tossing it on the floor. Sypha kissed him again before reaching to the side to grab a condom and some lube from the side table. Adrian fiddled with the thing a little, fumbling when he tried to open the package and Sypha could tell that he was nervous.

“I’ll do it. Come here,” Sypha soothed, getting him to come closer so she could do it for him. Adrian was breathing unevenly, eyes flicking around from her naked form beneath him to her face. Everything they were doing was new, totally new, and somehow it didn’t matter that Adrian wanted this, he was still full of butterflies. She poured some lube onto her palm and prepared him before she put it back on the end table. When she was done Adrian simply looked at her for a moment, beautiful and clueless. Sypha found it totally endearing. His cheeks were pink with a fierce blush. She smiled at his confused expression because he looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

Sypha moved backward, situating herself on his fluffy pillows and beckoned him forward. The bed was luxuriously soft beneath her. She pulled him in so he was on top of her and she wrapped her legs around him, smoothing his golden hair back. He kissed her quickly before he pulled back and looked down at her. Sypha noticed that his chest was still rising and falling quickly, breaths uneven, and he was shaking a little, a tremor in his arms.

“Are you nervous?” Sypha whispered from underneath him, spreading her legs wider.

“What?” Adrian’s face paled and he rejected it too quickly, “No.”

“You’re shaking,” she sighed. His long hair was tickling her cheek.

“Oh,” he exhaled shakily, “Sorry.” He let out a sharp exhale, shifting a little.  _ Fuck. Relax. _

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I was nervous my first time,” she soothed, stroking his hair and his arms, “We’re not in a rush. Just breathe.” She pulled him forward to rest his forehead against hers. Adrian took a deep inhale in and out. Then again. Sypha stroked his back, running her hands over his smooth skin. He finally relaxed, letting his naked body press up against hers. 

“Just kiss me,” she whispered. He did, taking his time. They kissed for what felt like a long time, Sypha dipping her tongue into his mouth to french kiss him. He moaned into her mouth. She bit his lip. She tugged at the roots of his hair. And it was working, she realized, because he was slowly relaxing and starting to buck up against her, gyrating his hips naturally. She adjusted his hips and scooted even closer so he felt more comfortable. He palmed her firm breasts, massaging them and dipping back down to kiss her neck. Sypha moaned. It felt good.

“Mm.” She started to move her hips a little, trying to generate friction that she wanted. Adrian grunted in pleasure when she did that so she tried it again, and soon he was getting up onto his knees and reaching down to touch her. She smiled when he did. He dipped his fingers in gently to feel her, slowly and delicately. Exploring. Sypha looked up at him with a pleasant expression.

“Are you ready?” She asked, locking eyes with him. He wasn’t so nervous anymore, his expression calm and lustful. He nodded, shifting forward. Adrian took a deep breath before he entered her gently. Sypha smiled as she watched Adrian’s expression. His face contorted into utter pleasure, a little choked sound escaping his lips and his eyebrows drawn up in pleasure. Sypha bucked against him a little and he groaned. Everything was more natural after that, and he moved on top of her easily, moaning a little with each thrust. Sypha loved the image of him on top of her as much as the feeling. He was tall and toned, with smooth pale skin and long wavy hair, messy from their activities. And his face was flushed, all the way to his ears. It was a beautiful look on him, she thought. He picked up momentum, fucking her a little harder and more deeply.

“Argh! Ahh. That’s good,” Sypha encouraged, which made Adrian smile. He leaned forward and kissed her firmly on the lips, lingering there as she wrapped her hands around his arms.

“You feel amazing,” Adrian groaned, burying his face into her neck and firmly grabbing her shapely thighs with both hands, getting more confident. Sypha loved it. She mewed underneath him, moving her hips in tandem with his.

“So do you.” Several minutes of mutual pleasure passed while they both enjoyed each other’s bodies and enjoyed the sensations between them before they were suddenly interrupted. A soft meow startled them, followed by a thumping noise and another, louder cry. They both turned to find Adrian’s little black cat had jumped up on the bed and started moving towards them. They both stilled their movements and stared blankly at the cat while it stared back, watching them. A moment of confusion came before they both started laughing. Adrian was still inside her and the situation was suddenly very amusing. 

“I’m sorry,” Adrian almost wheezed.

“It’s okay, it’s fine. Just keep going. Or, here- wait,” Sypha moved out from under him and picked up the cat, putting her back on her bench. Adrian chuckled at the situation. He forgot to put the cat in another room. But Sypha didn’t care, she just hopped back up on the bed and sat on her knees, facing away from him.

“You can take me like this,” she smiled, and looked back at him over her shoulder. Adrian jumped at the opportunity, kissing her little shoulders and entering her from behind. Sypha showed how to do it and he caught on pretty quickly. He felt overwhelmed with pleasure, massaging her thighs and her breasts from behind. He sucked on her neck, giving her little hickeys on her throat. It didn’t take long for them both to get lost in the pleasure of it all and come undone together in ecstasy. 

Trevor sat at his dorm desk, finishing up a paper for political science. It was a difficult paper to write but he had finished it. After spending a few minutes looking for typos and getting the works cited right, he submitted it. He had been thinking a lot lately about what Adrian had said about his major. Although he hadn’t officially switched his major from sociology, he was thinking about it. Adrian was so smart, and so put together. Trevor wished he could be like that. And sometimes he felt so lost, so unsure of himself or what he wanted to do with his life. In honesty, Trevor had been accustomed for so long to the feeling of just surviving. Just keeping himself alive.

And when a person is worried about survival, they barely ever think about the future or what they want to do. Trevor never thought he would make it as far as he had. And the future seemed murky. He sighed, standing up and stretching a little. He checked his phone for any messages, and when he found none, he hopped in the shower. He groaned under the hot water and grabbed the shampoo, lathering up his dark hair. 

Trevor’s mind went to Sypha and Adrian too quickly, and he tried not to think too much about them, but he did. He leaned back and closed his eyes, letting the stream wash over his face for a moment. An idea or a fantasy suddenly popped into his head. Having Adrian in the shower with him, up against the wall. He fantasized idly about leaning in to kiss him, his jaw and his neck, his shoulders, and further down. He imagined what Adrian’s naked form would feel like up against him. Wet and warm and smooth. But he snapped out of it, stepping forward, away from the water stream, and he shook his head, as if it would clear the thought from his mind. Thick rivulets of water streamed down his face and he rubbed his eyes.

“Ugh, get a grip.” Trevor hated himself for imagining that. He grabbed the bar of soap angrily and lathered up. He hated that he was starting to daydream about Adrian. More than daydream. He actually dreamed about him. The night before he had awoken from a strange dream that they had gone on a date. It was ridiculous. He told himself he should hate Adrian, or just tolerate him. He shouldn’t think about having him. Holding him. Dating him. It was inappropriate, it was abnormal. And he told himself he couldn’t do it. He would never involve himself with a Tepes, nice or not. 

After his shower, Trevor dried himself off hastily and wrapped a towel around his waist, going back to his bed. Trevor didn’t really have any pajamas, he just slept in t-shirts and sweatpants. He put some on. His roommate wasn’t there again, of course. Off at his girlfriend’s apartment. Trevor didn’t particularly like his roommate, but he had to admit it was lonely being in a little dorm by himself all the time. He brushed his teeth angrily and fell back into bed, feeling conflicted and angrily and alone. At first, his jealousy had been for Sypha, but now he was really starting to feel jealous also that Adrian was with Sypha and not him. He sighed, thinking about his night alone with the beautiful blonde. He had made Adrian feel bad again for having so much money, even though it wasn’t his fault. Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose. Adrian was nice even when he was being an asshole. He didn’t deserve him as a friend. And when Adrian held him he felt so safe, so warm, so… wanted. That was an entirely new feeling with a guy. When he had hookups with men in the past, which was very rare, they were quick and rough and over quite fast. There was zero hugging or cuddling about it. Now Sypha, she had held him a few times, and it felt nice. But with Adrian, Trevor didn’t know how to explain it, but he just felt… wanted. It was wonderful and painful at the same time.

It was oddly reminiscent of his family holding him when he was little, something he barely remembered. But it was wonderful. He slid under the covers and curled up on himself, wishing Adrian was with him again. Wishing he could fall asleep next to him, holding him. And that thought made him sad because he was almost positive that Sypha and Adrian had a thing going on. Adrian was so uncomfortable, so taken aback by the question of whether they had gotten together. Trevor didn’t know why but he guessed it was because they were already sleeping together. He saw the way Sypha looked at him in McDonald’s. And the library. And in class. And why shouldn’t she want him? Adrian was beautiful and melancholy, effortlessly elegant, and rich. Why shouldn’t she want to be with him? He was sexy and kind and he played sad music on the violin. He spoke Spanish and French. He took her to fancy restaurants. Trevor took her to Burger King. And Trevor knew they would be good together. They were both so attractive and smart. They liked reading books and traveling. Doing artsy things, talking about literature, and world politics. Trevor had street smarts, mostly. It was a different skill set. He struggled to follow some of their conversations. 

But still, it didn’t help to know those things. Because it still hurt. It hurt to know that he wasn’t chosen, he wasn’t wanted in that way. No one wanted to date him. Jealousy infected his heart, but when he pushed it away, he was left with strong feelings of loneliness and alienation. And it hurt. Deeply. Trevor didn’t want to, he didn’t mean to, but the only way he could go to sleep alone in his dorm room was to imagine it. Imagine Sypha being the little pillow in his arms and Adrian as the one behind him. It was pathetic, it was miserable, Trevor knew that. And he would be far too embarrassed to tell anyone that he did it, but it was the only way he could go to sleep. All he had was his imagination. 

_ Goodnight, Sypha. _

_ Goodnight, Adrian.  _

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Please leave a comment!**


	16. The Concert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor and Adrian spend some time together. Adrian prepares and then performs at the concert, but things do not turn out exactly as he planned they would.

Chapter 16: The Concert

* * *

 **Author’s Note: Music is crucial when reading this chapter. When Adrian is performing, please listen to the video at this link (Winter by Vivaldi):** https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p1qNOfdMyGA 

**When Trevor is listening to the playlist after the concert, listen to this recording of _I'm A Fool To Want You_ (Frank Sinatra): **https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wV9OcYhk4CU 

(Listening to these songs are _essential_ to get the full experience)

* * *

 _Sidenote_ \- I include music in my chapters because music is one of the essential parts of the human experience. It coincides with our feelings, our predilections, our thoughts. It sets the mood for important experiences in our lives and communicates things when words by themselves may not be enough. There are particular feelings in the sound of music that clue us into emotions we find difficult even to name. I would always recommend listening to the accompanying music in my books, even my books set in the middle ages when it’s appropriate. Music and reading combined can create a very immersive and powerful experience. If you find it difficult to read while listening to music, please stop reading, listen to the songs, and then resume reading.

* * *

**// Price Check //**

_Adrian’s Outfit 1:_

_YSL Coat - 6,500_

_YSL Phone Case - 395_

_YSL Boots - 995_

_Eleventy Sweater - 493_

_Gucci Bag - 1,690_

_YSL Belt - 575_

_David Yurman Black Diamond Necklace - 4,500_

_David Yurman Black Diamonds Ring - 1,950_

_White Gold Small Hoops - 300_

**Total Price: $17,418!**

* * *

Adrian’s Outfit (at Trevor’s):

Coat ($6,500) [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/saint-laurent-shearling-duffle-coat-item-14662544.aspx?storeid=12720 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/saint-laurent-shearling-duffle-coat-item-14662544.aspx?storeid=12720)

Sweater [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/eleventy-roll-neck-jumper-item-15365688.aspx ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/eleventy-roll-neck-jumper-item-15365688.aspx)

YSL Phone Case (Leather) [ https://www.bergdorfgoodman.com/p/saint-laurent-monogramme-iphone-xs-shiny-calfskin-phone-case-black-prod157650118?ecid=BGCS__GooglePLA&utm_source=google_shopping&adpos=&scid=scplpsku125122791&sc_intid=sku125122791&gclid=Cj0KCQjw-O35BRDVARIsAJU5mQWLCiT8aBPDKyiZT_3sS9Q27PgiuAa9Bw3Dyk4hhKzhbltBeq9yD_4aAgECEALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds ](https://www.bergdorfgoodman.com/p/saint-laurent-monogramme-iphone-xs-shiny-calfskin-phone-case-black-prod157650118?ecid=BGCS__GooglePLA&utm_source=google_shopping&adpos=&scid=scplpsku125122791&sc_intid=sku125122791&gclid=Cj0KCQjw-O35BRDVARIsAJU5mQWLCiT8aBPDKyiZT_3sS9Q27PgiuAa9Bw3Dyk4hhKzhbltBeq9yD_4aAgECEALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds)

Gucci Bag [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/gucci-off-the-grid-gg-supreme-tote-bag-item-15467359.aspx?storeid=10644 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/gucci-off-the-grid-gg-supreme-tote-bag-item-15467359.aspx?storeid=10644)

Ankle Boots

[ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/saint-laurent-army-laced-ankle-boots-item-15560938.aspx?storeid=12467 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/saint-laurent-army-laced-ankle-boots-item-15560938.aspx?storeid=12467)

YSL Belt [ https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/saint-laurent-monogram-croc-embossed-leather-belt/product/0400011830270?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306418208&R=190617402035&P_name=Saint+Laurent&N=306418208&bmUID=nfp5tl6 ](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/saint-laurent-monogram-croc-embossed-leather-belt/product/0400011830270?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306418208&R=190617402035&P_name=Saint+Laurent&N=306418208&bmUID=nfp5tl6)

David Yurman Black Diamond Necklace ($4,500) <https://www.davidyurman.com/products/mens/pendants/streamline-tag_-42mm-d25319mss.pdp.html?swatchCode=D25319MSSABD>

David Yurman Ring (Platinum with Black Diamonds) [ https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/david-yurman-streamline-two-row-band-ring-with-black-diamonds-prod113950028?utm_source=google_shopping&adpos=&scid=scplpsku116240116&sc_intid=sku116240116&ecid=NMCS__GooglePLA&gclid=Cj0KCQjw-O35BRDVARIsAJU5mQWmPGUVs_tdAt0mySAg-WmIBK-qbnZ8gbuxH3VUn53L25rL0Z1hFNsaAty9EALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds ](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/david-yurman-streamline-two-row-band-ring-with-black-diamonds-prod113950028?utm_source=google_shopping&adpos=&scid=scplpsku116240116&sc_intid=sku116240116&ecid=NMCS__GooglePLA&gclid=Cj0KCQjw-O35BRDVARIsAJU5mQWmPGUVs_tdAt0mySAg-WmIBK-qbnZ8gbuxH3VUn53L25rL0Z1hFNsaAty9EALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds)

Silver Tiny Hoop Earrings [ https://thisisthelast.com/products/small-seamless-hoop-earring?variant=15968089374822&flow_country=USA&utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=WS-Shopping-Smart&gclid=Cj0KCQjw-O35BRDVARIsAJU5mQXRsJAaMtLnilwnfdxXWLmh0zdbYDNboowC-rLxnGn0BktPSP9pGIEaAgl-EALw_wcB ](https://thisisthelast.com/products/small-seamless-hoop-earring?variant=15968089374822&flow_country=USA&utm_source=google&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=WS-Shopping-Smart&gclid=Cj0KCQjw-O35BRDVARIsAJU5mQXRsJAaMtLnilwnfdxXWLmh0zdbYDNboowC-rLxnGn0BktPSP9pGIEaAgl-EALw_wcB)

* * *

Adrian’s New Art

Frank Sinatra Mugshot [ https://fineartamerica.com/featured/frank-sinatra-mugshot-jon-neidert.html?product=canvas-print&googleShopping=true&completeProductSku=artworkid%5B14524610%5D-productid%5Bcanvasprintstretched%5D-imagewidth%5B13.5%5D-imageheight%5B20%5D-paperid%5Bglossycanvas%5D-wrapwidth%5B1.5%5D-wrapcolor%5Bmirrored%5D&gclid=Cj0KCQjw-O35BRDVARIsAJU5mQWZQEL7fq3m8njED2LvvEno10ZumO7IbiWUtrTKIGpdcNzVGy7FovYaAuDOEALw_wcB ](https://fineartamerica.com/featured/frank-sinatra-mugshot-jon-neidert.html?product=canvas-print&googleShopping=true&completeProductSku=artworkid%5B14524610%5D-productid%5Bcanvasprintstretched%5D-imagewidth%5B13.5%5D-imageheight%5B20%5D-paperid%5Bglossycanvas%5D-wrapwidth%5B1.5%5D-wrapcolor%5Bmirrored%5D&gclid=Cj0KCQjw-O35BRDVARIsAJU5mQWZQEL7fq3m8njED2LvvEno10ZumO7IbiWUtrTKIGpdcNzVGy7FovYaAuDOEALw_wcB)

Sad Pop Art Crying Girl (Lichtenstein style) [ https://www.threadless.com/shop/@turddemon/design/sad-pop-art-crying-girl/home/framed-fine-art-print?color=black&size=24x30 ](https://www.threadless.com/shop/@turddemon/design/sad-pop-art-crying-girl/home/framed-fine-art-print?color=black&size=24x30)

Marilyn Monroe Black and White Canvas (1)

[ https://mobile.greatbigcanvas.com/view/marilyn-monroe-1926-1962-cinema-actress,2242583/?s=4OBrRngnVnQpzQS0UcK0xNyymOiY4Z27IoYCbtTCXiKkCEjwAXo5lkTb21Gomwqz ](https://mobile.greatbigcanvas.com/view/marilyn-monroe-1926-1962-cinema-actress,2242583/?s=4OBrRngnVnQpzQS0UcK0xNyymOiY4Z27IoYCbtTCXiKkCEjwAXo5lkTb21Gomwqz)

Marilyn Monroe Black and White Canvas (2)

[ https://mobile.greatbigcanvas.com/view/marilyn-monroe-1926-1962,2245478/?s=tNWcOK1m13MNu5Pig21pDP5F71DW60Ygqn2srKu6KQmwl3OdHzWib9OC80c5 ](https://mobile.greatbigcanvas.com/view/marilyn-monroe-1926-1962,2245478/?s=tNWcOK1m13MNu5Pig21pDP5F71DW60Ygqn2srKu6KQmwl3OdHzWib9OC80c5)

Record Storage Cabinet-$6,000 [ https://www.1stdibs.com/furniture/storage-case-pieces/cabinets/dovetail-3-x-25-vinyl-storage-cabinet-solid-natural-walnut-flip-bins/id-f_15892002/ ](https://www.1stdibs.com/furniture/storage-case-pieces/cabinets/dovetail-3-x-25-vinyl-storage-cabinet-solid-natural-walnut-flip-bins/id-f_15892002/)

Chanel Tray Quote

[ https://www.etsy.com/listing/811992071/tray-with-chanel-quote?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=chanel+decor&ref=sr_gallery-1-41&cns=1 ](https://www.etsy.com/listing/811992071/tray-with-chanel-quote?ga_order=most_relevant&ga_search_type=all&ga_view_type=gallery&ga_search_query=chanel+decor&ref=sr_gallery-1-41&cns=1)

* * *

Morning came soon enough, light filtering through Adrian’s soft white and silver curtains, filling his bedroom with gentle light. Sypha rubbed her bleary eyes and took in her surroundings. Adrian’s bare, sleeping form was to her right. She turned around in the massive bed to look at him. Tall posters rose above the bed and translucent white chiffon fell from the posters above, making for a romantic, cozy feeling. The soft bed sheets were white, too, and Sypha hummed at the feeling of them under her fingertips. She looked over to Adrian. He was sleeping on his side, facing her, the morning light warming his features, making them softer, too. He looked peaceful in his sleep. His toned chest rose and fell slowly, and she made sure not to disturb him. She simply scooted closer and went back to sleep. It was Sunday. She didn’t have to go anywhere and neither did he.

An hour later or so they both woke up, and Adrian smiled when he realized she was in his bed. They kissed sleepily, softly. A gentle press of lips, nothing more. Adrian rested his forehead against hers and took a deep breath. He stroked her cheek and her short strawberry hair, then her back and her arms. She laid in his arms, content. The bare skin contact felt wonderful, and she hummed in approval as he fondled her breasts softly. 

“Last night was… wonderful,” he sighed into her neck. She giggled because it tickled, and moved to face him. He was still tired, blinking often as he tried to wake up. Sypha returned his small smile.

“Yes. It was.” She touched his pretty lips.

“I didn’t think this would happen at first. I don’t know- I just,” he stopped himself from derailing, “This is great.” He meant holding her was great, waking up next to her. Sypha eagerly cuddled his broad chest, stroking the smooth skin of his shoulder and bicep. He was a little thin, but still toned and in great shape. His skin was very soft to the touch and it made being naked feel very nice. 

“I didn’t either, actually. Not when I first met you. But- here we are,” she climbed on top of him, smiling like a contented cat. Adrian felt like he was melting again. Like his soul itself could melt under the warmth and sincerity of her blue eyes peering into his. He kissed her, closing his eyes. They got up. Sypha threw on one of his oversized striped T-shirts and he donned some soft lounging clothes. They went to the bathroom, brushed their teeth, combed their messy hair, and eventually wandered into the kitchen. 

“Can I have some water?” She asked, coming to the marble island and leaning against it. The tshirt barely covered her, but she didn’t care. It was comfy.

“Of course.” He got her an Evian and adjusted the blinds so they were down halfway, covering the blaring sunlight from the east side of the kitchen.

“Coffee?” He offered, running a hand through his long hair. Sypha nodded.

“Do you know how nice you are, Adrian?” She asked out of the blue, and Adrian turned to look at her, confused. 

“What?” He raised a blonde brow. Sypha chuckled.

“Seriously, you’re- I think you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met.” Adrian didn’t know how to take that. He sort of huffed, looking at his feet.

“I don’t know about that, Sypha.”

“Well, my grandpa’s very nice, but- I mean outside of my family, you’re the nicest. Ever. I don’t understand why you don’t have more friends. You have a heart of gold.”

“People take advantage of it,” he admitted, making her coffee. 

“I suppose they do... That’s sad. Anyway, we don’t have to talk about that. We can change the subject,” she shook it off, pulling down the oversized T-shirt so it covered her butt.

“You look really cute in my shirt,” Adrian smiled coyly. She was a petite woman and the big striped shirt was comically large on her, the sleeves coming almost to her elbows. Sypha giggled, playing with the hem at her upper thighs, balancing her weight on one leg. The coffee brewed away and Adrian approached her. He took his time kissing her, pulling her up against him and holding her tightly. After he pulled away from her lips he kept his hold on her, stroking the bare skin of her upper thighs and up to cup her backside, pulling her flush against him. She giggled and gave him an affectionate kiss.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he admitted, looking down at her plump red lips. She was so beautiful. Strawberry and cream. Pale skin, red hair, red lips. A dusting of little freckles.

“Grab my ass?” She teased, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Adrian shook his head.

“Sleep with you. It took me a while to summon the courage. I thought you would turn me down, I guess.”

“Why would I turn you down?” She wondered, scowling a little. 

“Because I’m bi. I wasn’t joking when I said that most women won’t be with me because of it.”

“Oh, well that’s their mistake. More of you for me, I guess,” she laughed it off with a tone that said people are strange. Adrian smiled and let her go, making coffee for himself. 

“Do you feel different at all?” Sypha asked, coming up behind him and playing with his pretty hair. Adrian looked at her over his shoulder, thinking.

“A little,” he laughed softly, “I guess. Older? And happier, because I really wanted to be with you.” He blushed a little when he said it and Sypha smiled, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. Adrian’s cat, Morticia, came up to them and rubbed against their legs, starting to meow.

“Aww,” Sypha cooed, looking down at the kitty. Adrian picked the cat up and petted her. Sypha smiled and came up to them, petting the little cat with him. 

“She’s so fluffy and cute,” she giggled, “Can I hold her?”

“Yeah,” he gave her to Sypha, who held her closely, petting her head. The kitty started to purr softly.

“Aw. You wanted attention last night, didn’t you? Sorry. We were having sex, but we’ll pet you now,” she teased and Adrian laughed.

“Do you want some breakfast?” 

“Sure.” She set the cat down on the floor, giving her some more petting.

“Strawberries and whipped cream? And… toast?” He shrugged, seeing what was in his fridge. Sypha laughed, sipping her coffee.

“Sounds good. You eat that for breakfast?” 

“No, usually I have oatmeal with nuts and berries but I’m out. Forgot to put it on the list.”

“The list?” She raised a brow. Adrian nodded.

“My- my housekeeper buys groceries for me. Maria.”

“Oh, right. Rich boy,” she teased in her Spanish accent, “You are a rich boy.”

He rolled his eyes. She thought it was funny, smiling widely.

“Spoiled baby,” she giggled.

“I do some things!” Adrian protested mildly, washing the strawberries and putting them in a bowl, dolloping whipped cream on top. Sypha picked one up, dipped it in the cream and took a refreshing bite. She smirked at him.

“What do you do around the house? Besides cooking?”

“Well, to be fair, I don’t cook all the time. Only when I feel like it. I order delivery a lot when I’m busy. But I like cooking... Around the apartment?” he looked around, thinking about it, “I clean up, I decorate, I do laundry sometimes. My mom taught me how to do laundry. I make my own bed-” Sypha cut him off. Adrian gave her a blank stare.

“Who doesn’t make their own bed?” She snorted. 

“I didn’t when I was little. I had live-in housekeepers who did everything. Well, I still do, of course, just not here. They would set out my clothes, clean them, make the bed, tidy my room, make all my meals. I never had to lift a finger. I just had to study, do my homework, and do my lessons. Fencing and violin.”

“What a strange way to live... So why don’t you do that now? I mean, why not buy a big fancy house in town and have live-in help like before?” Adrian put toast on and turned to face her again.

“I wanted more independence. I wanted to live more normally. Having that kind of service is nice, you know, but it sets you apart from other people.” Sypha could barely believe that life. It was like something from the movies.

“You wanted to see how the other half lives?” She asked.

“Yes. I guess so,” he shrugged.

“Just like the song,” she laughed, biting into another strawberry. Adrian scowled.

“The song?”

“From Thoroughly Modern Millie. The musical. I was in it in high school.” Adrian gave her a blank look, so she started singing softly. 

_“‘Give me the meat without the gravy_

_I'll take the oyster sans the pearl_

_Pinching pennies, clipping coupons_

_See a brand new world unfurl_

_Let me brown bag all my lunches_

_Try my hand at canned cuisine_

_A Berlitz class I long to pass_

_How the other half,_

_How the other half lives!_

_No fourteen-karat cronies, phonies._

_Fair-weather friends._

_I want an "on-the-dole" mate, soulmate._

_Stormy-weather friends’._ ”

Adrian laughed a little but he listened in interest. Sypha had a pretty singing voice, smooth and light. It made him smile hearing her sing.

“I’ve never heard that one before. That’s interesting. I- I guess so, yeah. Rich people can be pretty vapid and soulless. Depending on the person. I wanted to meet some more down to earth, kind people. Normal people.”

“What are most rich people like? Really, really rich, I mean? Billionaires?” She buttered her toast.

“Shallow. Lonely. Bored. Especially the housewives. And spoiled. Wow. I thought I was spoiled. If they don’t get their way, Oh my God,” he huffed incredulously, “I’m glad at least I had parents who told me ‘no’ sometimes. Because when people always hear ‘yes’ it -ruins them. It ruins their soul.”

“I bet,” she nodded, thinking about it, “They become narcissists.”

“Oh, yes. Their world is a bubble that begins and ends with their own feelings, most of them. If they’re happy, fine, but if they get upset, they’ll- they’ll go full-on nuts. They expect you to cave and give them what they want, and I just wouldn’t do it- so I cut most of them off. And they’ll get mad for such weird reasons. Not taking them on a trip with you, not messaging them before you go out to a restaurant somewhere, not asking what they want for their birthday. You know, still getting them a gift, but it’s not what they wanted, and they yell at you for not asking beforehand. One time I got this friend a beautiful pair of 18-carat diamond white gold hoops, and she told me they were the wrong ones, and she wanted a bigger pair. She said the pair I got her, which was really classic and chic, was for an old lady. And they were something like five thousand dollars.” Sypha gasped.

“Oh my God! That’s ridiculous! Are you serious?”

“Yes. Of course, not everyone is like that, but still. They’re so spoiled. I wanted a different type of person in my life.”

“Well, I totally understand that. You didn’t fit in with that. It's such a shallow life.”

“Do you want more coffee?” He picked up the pot and brought it over.

“Sure.” When he was pouring, a thought occurred to her.

“Hey, I was thinking about something the other day. Why don’t you have a bodyguard?”

“I do. My driver is also trained as a bodyguard. But I don’t like having someone follow me around 24 hours a day. I had that all the time when I was younger. Pretty much every time I went shopping, every time I went out and about, my bodyguard was there. Not that I didn’t like him or anything, I did, it’s just- I prefer living like a normal person. I mean, if things got dangerous, Eduardo is properly trained to protect me. He lives downstairs. But I don’t have to have him with me all the time. It’s not like I get death threats or anything. Not yet, at least.”

“I see.”

“I probably should keep one with me at all times, just to be safe, but- I don’t like having someone watching every single thing I do, listening to all my conversations.” Sypha made a face.

“Rich people problems. My bodyguard bothers me by listening to all my conversations,” she teased him a little. Adrian shrugged.

“The lack of privacy can be annoying.”

“I guess so…” she thought about it for a moment, “Anyway, do you want to study together today?”

“Sure,” he smiled at her, “That sounds good. I have to start studying for midterms. They’re going to be hard. Especially for advanced neuro and chemistry.”

“Mine too. I didn’t bring any of my books with me or anything. Should I go back to my place, shower, grab my stuff and come back? Or do you want to study at school?”

“We can study in the library. I might need to borrow a couple books for one of my papers. Let me text my driver.”

-Monday-

[study group]

Sypha (8:00 am) Hey guys good morning!!! <3

Adrian (8:31 am) Morning, Sypha.

Sypha (8:35 am) who wants to do yoga with meee?

Adrian (8:37 am) That sounds fun, but I’m pretty busy. I have class and then I’m practicing for the concert.

Sypha (8:40 am) Aw :(( okay. Understandable

Sypha (8:50 am) Trevor!! Come to the gym with me. Please! Wake up

Trevor (9:21 am) Jesus you guys wake up early. I’m still in bed. 

Sypha (9:22 am) Wake up, sleepyhead. Come to the gym. No excuses XOXO

Trevor (9:30 am) Ok. I’m up… coming over. But I’m not doing yoga. You can do yoga next to me while I lift. I’m going to do deadlifts today

Sypha (9:31 am) Deal.

-Wednesday-

Trevor (6:49 pm) I’m bored in my room… do you guys want to get hammered??

Sypha (6:55 pm) Can’t, sorry. Evening class ://

Sypha (6:56 pm) You two hang out!! 

Adrian (7:01 pm) Trevor, I’m not getting hammered on a Wednesday under any circumstance. But if you’re bored I can come over. I’m on campus.

Trevor (7:02 pm) ur no fun, prince pouty

Adrian (7:02 pm) I’m not pouty! 

Trevor (7:02 pm) OMG

Sypha (7:03 pm) *hehe*

Trevor (7:04 pm) Come on over, then. I’m in my room. I’ll meet you in the lobby

Adrian (7:10 pm) Here.

Trevor was in his grey sweats and ‘Belmont Industries’ t-shirt when he went downstairs to let Adrian in. He got off the elevator with two girls who not-so-subtly checked out Adrian while walking by him, nudging each other to take a look at the tall, elegant blonde lingering in their dorm lobby. He always seemed out of place at school. Said blonde was standing right in the middle of the stark white entrance hall dressed in black. He looked more posh than usual, somehow, and Trevor tried not to cringe at the obvious wealth that came off him in waves. Somehow it irritated him, probably because he was homeless and dirt poor most of his life. And it wasn’t just the smell of his Chanel cologne that gave his massive wealth away. It was obvious. And yet also subtle at the same time because Adrian didn’t wear anything with glaring labels or emblems. He was more classy than that. An onlooker had to look closely or have a trained eye, like Trevor did, to know just how expensive he was. 

The black shearling duffle coat he had on was ostentatiously glamorous. College kids simply did not wear anything like that. The sheepskin looked incredibly soft and luxurious to the touch. It had a thick hood and toggle fastenings in the front, but he wore it open, revealing his posh burgundy turtleneck sweater, silver amulet necklace, sleek crocodile belt, and black jeans. His lace-up Saint Laurent “military boots” seemed like they had never seen a spec of mud. In one hand he held his phone, complete with YSL leather case, and in his other he held a brand new black Gucci supreme tote bag which was ultra-fashionable. But what stood out the most was his hair, of course. Adrian had just gotten a fresh cut and a blowout, so his voluminous hair fell around his shoulders and down his back in beautiful, shiny waves. The light blonde color juxtaposed all the black he was wearing. 

“Hey, Adrian,” Trevor sort of groaned, feeling poor as fuck in his washed out, overworn fading t-shirt and plastic Walmart slides. Adrian looked up from his phone and smiled briefly at him, slipping his phone in his bag elegantly and brushing back his long hair like a movie star. _Goddamn. He’s beautiful._

“Hey, Trevor, how are you?”

“Urgh. Okay. Let me check you in.” Trevor signed Adrian into the building and they made their way to Trevor’s dorm room. _I just realized he’s never been in here before._

“So, uh, this is my room,” he started awkwardly as he put in his key and opened the door. He hadn’t really cleaned up before Adrian stopped by. It wasn’t that messy, but it wasn’t really clean, either. A few old cups and wrappers were out. Trevor threw some in his overflowing trash bin. Adrian stepped into the space trepidatiously, looking around. Plain tiled floors, dirty laundry hampers, stereotypical posters on the wall. Trevor was sure it smelled stale and maybe even a bit gross. The windows didn’t open and his roommate was even worse at taking out the trash or doing the laundry.

“Where’s your roommate?” Adrian asked, looking at the abandoned side of the room.

“Out. At his girlfriend’s. She has an apartment, I think. He’s always there.”

“Oh,” he looked over Trevor’s side of the room, peering around and under the bed, “Where’s all your stuff? Is it in storage or something?” Under Trevor’s roommate’s bed there were tubs and bins filled with stuff. Backpacks and drawers filled with snacks. Blankets. A bunch of books and personal stuff took up his roommate’s desk, and there was a big corkboard on top with a whole collage of personal pictures. One year anniversary photos with his girlfriend and family photos galore. He had a bean bag chair on his side and a nice suitcase. The closet was so full he couldn’t shut it properly, and a sweatshirt arm stuck out.

Trevor’s side was barren in comparison. He only had his bedding, a Kleenex box, a couple of cheap posters, one pillow, and a blanket. His laptop and an old soda can sat on his desk along with the picture of Sypha. There were no family photos. No other friend photos. His Jansport backpack hung off the desk chair. Inside the drawers there were some notebooks and a few pens, out of sight, but not much. On top of his dresser, he had an unwashed white jersey and deodorant, nothing else. The only thing underneath his bed was a small clear bin with a few sports items and a cheap pop-up hamper. His side of the room was so empty it was strange.

“I don’t have any stuff, really. Just some clothes and my laptop. And my backpack.” Trevor said it casually enough. He didn’t care very much about that sort of thing, but the look he got from Adrian was uncomfortable. He looked at Trevor like he was really understanding his poverty, almost like it was for the first time. He was really understanding just how poor Trevor was, and the effects of being an orphan. Trevor hated that look, however subtle. It was pity and sadness for his condition. He couldn't stand that. He didn’t want to be pitied. After shuffling on his feet he spat something out, just to clear the air,

“Nice purse.” Trevor hated himself as soon as he said it. He hated that he was mean as a defense just to stop feeling bad about himself, but to his surprise, Adrian wasn’t insulted.

“Thanks. I just got it,” he looked down at the beautiful bag briefly, and then back at Trevor’s bare room. It was awkward because there was almost nothing to talk about. All there was too converse about was his posters.

“You like ACDC?” Adrian tried to make conversation. 

“I guess,” Trevor shrugged, “It was on sale, so I didn’t complain. I like Queen better.” The iconic ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ poster hung next to the ACDC one. 

“Me too.” Trevor turned back to look at him.

“How was your class?”

“It was fine. Just a lecture. Yours?”

“Boring. Normal.”

There was a pregnant pause. Adrian looked around again.

“You- have a lot of jewelry,” Trevor added randomly, “Where’d you get it?” He looked over the jewelry Adrian had on: white gold tiny hoop earrings, a silver necklace with a black amulet, and a silver ring with the same black stones to match. Adrian pulled on his necklace, looking down at it. The amulet was unique in that it was filled with tiny black gems, making it sparkle despite how dark it was.

“Uh, David Yurman, I think. He’s a jewelry designer. The ring is the same,” he lifted his hand to show the silver band on his finger with the same black stones wrapped around. 

“I’ve never seen a guy wear something like that. What’s it made out of?”

“Black diamonds.” Trevor raised his eyebrows. 

“Geez. Black diamonds. Never even heard of that. Are they more expensive or something?” He didn’t know what the point of asking that was, but he was just trying to make conversation, because it was uncomfortable standing next to the billionaire in his little dorm room. They didn’t have much in common. Adrian shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

“What - do you want to do?” Trevor asked awkwardly, putting his hands in the pocket of his sweatpants and walking around a bit. There was nothing to do in his dorm room and Trevor wasn’t sure if he wanted Adrian to sit on his bed. That somehow seemed too dangerous given his recent dreams about the man.

“Uh- I don’t know. Do you want to go catch a movie or something? Or we could go to my place? My driver’s waiting out front, actually.” Adrian suggested. Trevor nodded.

“Okay, yeah. I can bring my laptop and stuff so we can study.”

“Sounds good.” Trevor put on shoes and his coat, grabbed his stuff, and they went to Adrian’s apartment. Trevor was hanging up his coat when he realized the art had changed. In place of the ASAP Rocky X DIOR print was an equally large canvas print of a young man’s mugshot, larger than life. He was handsome with pale skin and dark hair. Trevor looked over to Adrian, brow raised.

“What’s this?” He gestured to the photograph. Adrian laughed a little.

“That’s Frank Sinatra’s mugshot. He got arrested on charges of seduction and fornication.” Trevor made a face.

“Seduction charges?”

“I think a little adultery was mixed in,” Adrian chuckled, “He was our age.” 

“That’s interesting. That’s the guy who sings, uh- what’s it called -New York, New York, right? _If I can -make it there, I’ll make it- anywhere_ ,” he sang, remembering the tune. Adrian gave him a look that said ‘duh’. 

“Of course that’s him. I’m a huge fan. I have a signed poster in my guest bathroom. I framed it. He’s one of my favorite singers.” Trevor found that interesting.

“So, let me get this straight… you listen to ASAP Rocky, Korean hip hop, and,” he dramatized the name, making a face, “Frank. Sinatra.” Adrian smirked at him as he walked into the living room.

“Yes. I have a wide range of interests. I change out my music and artwork in accordance with my moods. Can you tell?” Trevor looked around. The modern art had been replaced with huge canvas prints of black and white photographs from the fifties. They were beautiful. One was Marilyn Monroe in a dressing room full of mirrors posing in a sultry one-shoulder satin dress. It was very artistic. The other was her in black lingerie laying on a bed with satin sheets, staring seductively into the camera.

“That’s hot.” Trevor looked closer at the photograph. “Very artsy, I suppose.”

“Well, I love her. She’s my favorite female singer and actress from the fifties.”

“What’s that one? I didn’t see that before.” Trevor pointed to a large canvas print above the record cabinet, a pop art style painting of a beautiful woman crying. 

“It’s in Roy Lichtenstein’s art style from the 60s. Pop art.” Adrian went to the kitchen counter and shuffled through a drawer. Trevor stared at the lovely, sad painting. _What a strange guy. Who has art like this? I guess, an artist, right? Ha... ughhh. I have no idea how to talk to him. I wish I knew how, but- I don’t understand any of this artsy stuff. It’s - pretty, though. In a sad sort of way._ Finally, Adrian found what he wanted, a takeout menu. 

“I’m going to order from Grinnell’s. What do you want to eat?”

“What’s Grinnell’s?” He had never heard of it.

“The Italian place. It’s good. Do you want chicken, steak? Salmon?” He got his phone out and typed in the number. Trevor knew he couldn't afford it, and he didn’t want to ask Adrian to pay for it. That was too embarrassing.

“Uh- I can just eat some Doritos or something. You don’t need to order me anything.”

“I’m not going to eat a full meal and watch you eat Doritos,” Adrian laughed, “What do you want? It’s on me.” Trevor found it hard to resist an opportunity for a good meal.

“Um… steak?” 

“Okay. Shrimp cocktail or Cesar salad?” He asked nonchalantly, and Trevor scowled.

“Cesar salad, I guess.” Adrian nodded and called the restaurant.

“Hello. I’d like to make a delivery order. For appetizers, I’d like one shrimp cocktail and one one Ceasar salad. I’ll take one order of NY strip steak, mashed potatoes on the side. Another of Grinell’s Chicken. Broccoli on the side of that. Yeah. Vanilla? Sure. Yes, Adrian Tepes. Thank you.” He put his phone back on the counter and Trevor walked over to him.

“You don’t even have to give them your address?”

“I order from there restaurant twice a week, at least. When I’m too busy to cook. Their food is great.” _Twice a week at least, Jesus. That would be nice._

“Well, I can’t even remember the last time I had steak. I’m excited.” He smiled a little and Adrian returned it.

“Good. I think I have a bottle of red in the wine fridge, so you can have that with your steak. It should pair nicely.”

“Thank you.” He felt awkward with Adrian being so nice to him. The blonde was sort of an enemy in Trevor’s mind, but it didn’t feel like that at all. Not anymore. Not even a little bit.

“You’re welcome,” Adrian smiled, “Do you want to study now?”

“Sure.” 

“I’ll put on some music. Go ahead and start, if you want.”

Adrian went to the CTC player and started looking for a record. Trevor took his laptop out of his backpack, glancing over to see him go through his record collection. He had a nice solid wood storage cabinet with pull-out drawers and records on display. Curious, Trevor walked towards him. Adrian was rifling through his records one by one, long blonde hair falling around his face so Trevor couldn't see him.

“You have a lot of records,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” he looked over his shoulder at Trevor, “I like them. The cover art is my favorite part.” Trevor looked through one of the rows. Arctic Monkeys, Fleetwood Mac, Amy Winehouse, Travis Scott, Cigarettes After Sex, Nirvana, Lana Del Rey, Miles Davis. There was a mix. Adrian eventually found the record he wanted and put in on.

“Where do you get all these?” Trevor wondered.

“Different places. Online, eBay, Urban Outfitters, and from record shops when I’m in New York or other cities. London. Seoul.” 

“How many do you have?” It seemed like a lot.

“800, give or take.” Trevor’s eyes went wide.

“Holy shit!” He looked back at the wide cabinet. It was quite a collection. “Cool.”

“But I don’t know if I have any ACDC for you,” he chuckled, to which Trevor snorted. 

“I’m not actually a huge fan of ACDC. It was just one of the posters they had in the bargain bin when I was shopping. Three posters for five bucks, if I remember right.” 

“Who’s your favorite singer?”

“Freddie Mercury, I guess.” He watched Adrian move back into the kitchen, pull out a bottle of red wine and cork it. 

“Mm. I like him too. Would you like a glass?” 

“Sure.” Trevor would never pass up an opportunity for free alcohol. And good alcohol at that. He walked into the living room, seeing new things he had put out. Books about famous designers, and a big black tray with the Chanel symbol on it and a quote.

“The best things in life are free. The second best are very expensive,” he read aloud, snickering at it. Adrian nodded, pouring wine for them.

“It’s true.” Trevor considered that.

“I suppose it is.”

They started studying together. Adrian was reading through a textbook called _‘Neuroscience Methods’_ and Trevor was reading an article for political science that he had to write a paper about. Frank Sinatra played softly throughout the apartment on the CTC console. 

_Strangers in the night_

_Exchanging glances_

_Wondering in the night_

_What were the chances_

_We'd be sharing love_

_Before the night was through?_

_Something in your eyes_

_Was so inviting_

_Something in your smile_

_Was so exciting_

Trevor lost focus on the article, taking a sip of wine and listening to the music. It was beautiful, classic, and sophisticated. He never listened to music like Frank Sinatras’, and the experience was new. The sounds were new. He couldn’t help but glance over to Adrian while the song played, watching him study. His golden hair glimmered, blonde eyelashes brushed his cheeks as he looked down, reading his book. When he got stuck on a difficult concept he would tap his pen against the ring of his notebook and stick out his pink bottom lip, like he was pouting. Trevor found it adorable, even though he wouldn’t say it out loud. Suddenly, the blonde looked up, catching Trevor’s gaze, holding it. Ice blue and glittering gold.

_Something in my heart told me I must have you_

_Strangers in the night, two lonely people_

_We were strangers in the night_

_Up to the moment when we said our first hello_

_Little did we know_

_Love was just a glance away, a warm embracing dance away_

“Do you want to dance?” Adrian joked, smiling mischievously. Trevor laughed, a little tint of pink on his cheeks. He shook his head.

“No,” he laughed, “But... it’s - uh - it’s nice. The song. I like it.” He peeled his eyes away from the irresistible blonde man. Trevor had a habit of getting sucked into his gaze, like he was in a trace, and he stared for far too long. He went back to the article. Later, when he looked back, Adrian was smiling faintly. It was a nice look on him, and it pulled at something inside of Trevor to see him looking like that. The song had switched to _The Way You Look Tonight._

_Some day, when I'm awfully low_

_When the world is cold_

_I will feel a glow just thinking of you_

_And the way you look tonight_

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I never listen to this kind of stuff. My music taste is- I don’t know, whatever’s on at the bar. Or whatever’s trending on Youtube. I don’t listen to old songs like this. They’re - kinda nice, I guess... I didn’t think I’d like it.”

_Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm_

_And your cheeks so soft_

_There is nothing for me but to love you_

_And the way you look tonight_

“I’ll make you a mix,” he offered, giving Trevor an affectionate look. Trevor gulped and he didn’t know why. He nodded, raising his brows in slight surprise.

“-okay.”

“Do you have earbuds? I never see you listening to music on your phone.” Trevor scowled a little.

“Ah- I do. But one of them is broken. And they were crappy before, anyway. They’re - Skullcandy I think? They don’t let people steal the expensive ones anymore, they keep them locked up in Walmart and you have to ask for the guy to come over with a key.”

Adrian got up suddenly and went to his room. When he returned he handed over a box that said ‘SimpTronic Wireless Bluetooth Earbuds’. Trevor looked at the box, taking out the contents. It was a pair of high-quality black wireless earbuds in a charging box.

_With each word your tenderness grows_

_Tearin' my fear apart_

_And that laugh, wrinkles your nose_

_Touches my foolish heart_

_Lovely, never, never change_

_Keep that breathless charm_

“Don’t steal anymore, okay? You could go to jail, Trevor. Just ask. I have anything and everything. They’re really good- they’re waterproof, they have noise cancellation, and great sound quality. They last up to forty hours between charges.” He sat back down and took a sip of the red wine. Trevor played with them, taking them out of the charger.

“Wait-are you giving me your earbuds?”

“I have a drawer full of them. I always lose them, cause they’re so tiny. But yeah, take one. It’s no problem. Music is only good if you have good earbuds.” 

“Oh- okay? Thanks. Wait- wait, why don’t you use CTC earbuds? What the hell?” He laughed at that.

“I don’t really like them that much. The bass is much better in these, honestly. I like CTC phones and laptops, but the headphones aren’t my favorite. These are.” 

“Interesting,” Trevor smirked, leaning back in his chair, “Do you have to wear the CTC ones around your Dad, then?” Adrian rolled his eyes.

“Eh. Mostly I do. But sometimes I bring my Beats headphones and he doesn’t care that much... Try listening to music on your way back to the dorms tonight.”

“Okay. Thanks a lot.”

“You’re welcome.”

They studied together for a few hours and chatted amiably over dinner. Trevor opted to walk that night, trying out the new earbuds out and beginning the walk back to his dorm. He connected them to his Bluetooth and walked down the hill. Suddenly his phone buzzed and he looked to see what it was.

[Prince Pouty]

Adrian (10:03 pm) [Spotify: Classic Music Mix (For Trevor)]

Adrian (10:03 pm) Enjoy :)

Trevor (10:04 pm) Thanks. Goodnight

Adrian (10:05 pm) Goodnight

Trevor smiled, standing alone one the sidewalk. No one was around to see the happy look that flickered across his face. _That was quick._ He clicked on the Spotify playlist Adrian had made for him. It had a good amount of songs in it. 

[Classic Music Mix (For Trevor)]

Track 1: I Think Of You, Frank Sinatra

Track 2: Put Your Head On My Shoulder, Pauk Anka

Track 3: Fever, Peggy Lee

Track 4: La Vie En Rose, Louis Armstrong

Track 5: Autumn Leaves, Frank Sinatra

Track 6: Maybe You’ll Be There, Frank Sinatra

Track 7: I Wanna Be Loved By You, Marilyn Monroe

Track 8: Autumn In New York, Billie Holiday

Track 9: Je t'aime, Lara Fabian

Track 10: ‘Tis Autumn, Nat King Cole

Track 11: The Winner Takes It All, ABBA

Track 12: I Fall In Love Too Easily, Chet Baker

Track 13: Woman In Love, Barbara Streisand

Track 14: Je Suis Malade, Lara Fabian

Track 15: I’m a Fool to Love You, Frank Sinatra

He started at the top, listening to the old music, and walking down the sidewalk. The streetlights glared overhead in the darkness of the night, but Trevor didn’t care. He was relatively happy. Happier than he usually was. His study session with Adrian had gone very well and they both had left in relatively good moods. _And now he’s made me a mix. When’s the last time anyone did that for me?_ Trevor had never owned any nice earbuds or headphones in his life, and so with Adrian’s gifted earbuds, it was like he was hearing music properly for the first time in his life. The sounds were clear and beautiful, Frank Sinatra’s emotive, lovely voice entrancing him, lulling him. He listened to every word, lost in the sound. Lost in the feeling of the night.

_In the hush of evening_

_As shadows steal across my lonely room_

_I think of you_

_I think of you_

_From afar the music_

_Of violins come softly through the gloom_

_All I can do_

_Is think of you_

_I can see you standing there before me_

_And I can hear you whisper_

_You adore me_

_So when dusk is falling_

_I live again the loveliness we knew_

_I think of you_

_I think of you_

* * *

“Okay Ashley, get a pen, please. Can you write this down?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m expecting about fifteen or twenty people so we need to get food and drinks. First, let’s go to Dean and Deluca for the hors devours. Shrimp cocktail in a giant martini glass. That one you used for the yacht party last time. Let’s have cheese and crackers on a nice board or two here,” he pointed to the counter, “a nice array of fresh fruits on layered trays. Grapes, pineapple, melon, strawberries, that sort of thing. I want it to look nice. And some prosciutto and olives here, bacon-wrapped figs. And spinach artichoke dip with bread, everyone loves that.”

“Got it. What do you want for alcohol? Do you want one of my staff to bartend?”

“Yes, absolutely. A bartender should get here before my concert ends to start preparing, unless I tell them otherwise. Let’s have Bacardi, Absolut, Grey Goose, and Jack Daniel’s bottles there,” he pointed to the bar cart, “and make sure we have plenty of mixers. Fresh squeezed juices and garnishes. Orange, lime, pineapple, cranberry, et cetera. And get bottles of Coke, Sprite, and Ginger Ale. But most importantly I want three big bottles of Dom Perignon here on the counter, in a bowl of ice. And I want to do the party like we did my last birthday on the yacht, with the backlighting in pink and blue. Do you have those LED strips? To put under the counters and everything?”

“Yes. We can do that. Do you want them inside the bowls, too? So everything kind of glows?” She asked, jotting down notes.

“That’s perfect.”

“Decorations?”

“Uh, minimal. The view and the furniture are beautiful already. Just a few silver and clear candles, those tall ones that I like. And I loved that time you did the giant champagne glasses with water and a big rose inside. That looks great with the backlight. And the pretty glasses I like, do you remember? Tall, clear champagne glasses and the smaller gold old-fashioned glasses, chilled. Ice in a bucket.”

“Anything else?”

“Uh- In terms of the apartment can I please have someone wash the sheets and everything now? And again after the weekend, of course. I need someone to come in on Sunday afternoon and clean everything. If there’s damage during the party, I don’t care, I’ll just pay for it.”

“Okay.”

[Calling: Sypha]

“Hey, Adrian.” Sypha’s voice sounded groggy and rougher than normal. Adrian scowled.

“Hey, Sypha, are you all ready to go tomorrow?”

“No. I’m really sorry, but I’m sick. I have a cold and a fever. I’m in bed.”

“What?! Oh, no.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I just feel really bad that I’m going to miss your concert, and the party. I’m so sorry, Adrian.”

“Oh. Ah. It’s alright. It’s not your fault. You’re in your dorm?”

“Stay right there.”

“What? Why? Aren’t you in the city?”

“Just hang tight. I’ll see you soon.”

* * *

On the plane ride back Adrian canceled the bartender and the chef, but the food was already purchased and the decor had already been set up. He showed up at Sypha’s dorm with a takeout bag from Panera Bread and another bag from CVS. Sypha was shocked that he had flown in from the city just to give her chicken noodle soup and cold medicine. It was wonderfully sweet. He talked to her for a while before heading back to the city later that night by himself. 

* * *

[study group]

Sypha (8:55 pm) I’m sick ;(( sorry I wished I could come

Trevor (8:56 pm) are u okay? What’s wrong?

Sypha (8:56 pm) I have a cold and a fever. It sucks. I’m going to the doctor tomorrow

Adrian (8:59 pm) Feel better, Sypha. 

Trevor (9:00 pm) yeah, feel better sorry you’re sick

Adrian (9:00 pm) I’m in the city. Trevor, are you still coming to my concert?

Trevor (9:01 pm) Yeah, I’m flying out tomorrow. Break a leg!

Sypha (9:01 pm) Yes, break a leg, Adrian! You’re gonna do great, I know it. Maybe I can watch a video afterward?

Adrian (9:02 pm) Thanks! Yes, you can, Sypha. They’re making a CD and a DVD of the concert, so I’ll bring you one. 

Sypha (9:03 pm) you’re the best. Have fun in the city, boys!!

* * *

After his plane landed in JFK, Trevor made his way to the taxi line. He hadn’t been on a plane in a while. The only thing he brought with him was his Jansport backpack, which didn’t match at all with the Michael Kors coat and his gifted suit, but he didn’t care. After being homeless for years he had pretty much given up caring about appearances altogether. It didn’t seem consequential in the grand scheme of things. He checked the time on his phone: 6:04. The performance was scheduled for seven, so he figured that he would be right on time. It was a forty-five-minute drive to Carnegie Hall with traffic, of which there was plenty given it was rush hour. Trevor put in the new earbuds Adrian had given him and listened to the songs he hadn’t gotten to yet. They were totally different from what he usually listened to, but that was the point. Adrian’s playlist was much more refined, poetic, and sad than what Trevor usually listened to. It was beautiful and gloomy at the same time. There were a couple in French that he didn’t understand, but he liked the sound of them. He pressed play on the next song, _I Fall In Love Too Easily,_ letting the music take him away. It was drizzling outside, and the sky was cold and grey, but Trevor didn't really mind. He wondered what Adrian was thinking. He wondered if he was nervous or excited about the concert. It had to be a lot of pressure, performing in front of an audience at Carnegie Hall.

* * *

Adrian paced in the backstage waiting room, playing with his nails nervously. He had already tuned his violin, finished his warm-ups, and practiced his piece. That wasn’t what he was worried about. He had practiced it a thousand times. He was worried about something else entirely. It wasn’t time for people to enter yet, so Adrian walked onstage and peeled back the heavy, red curtains to look out at the massive, glamorous theater auditorium. He looked down at the first row seats, checking the name placards again. In the right-center, there they were, laminated and spelled out in golden cursive font: Mrs. Lisa Tepes, Mr. Vladislav Tepes. He sighed and closed the curtain, going back to the waiting room and sitting alone on the couch. The other young musicians all had their families or friends with them backstage, talking, and encouraging them to break a leg. Adrian had been watching them jealously for an hour. Time was running out. He checked his phone, gritting his teeth.

[Dad]

-Wednesday-

Adrian (7:33 pm) Hey. How are you doing lately? I haven’t heard from you in a while. My concert is this Saturday in the city. It’s at Carnegie Hall. Don’t forget, please. I think I’ll have a small party afterwards.

-Saturday-

Adrian (11:45 am) Hey, Dad. You’re coming to the concert, right?

Adrian (6:01 pm) Did you forget? Or, are you on your way? The concert is at 7pm. Your seat is in the front row, next to Mom. 

No response yet. Adrian breathed shallowly, nervously. He put his phone down and picked up his violin. He ran through a few chords, just to distract himself, or to try and center himself. He knew a musician should never be distracted before a concert, so he tried to put it out of mind. But after a few minutes, he picked up the phone again, looking for a text. Anything. Suddenly, it buzzed.

[Trevor]

Trevor (6:12 pm) On my way. I should be there on time and everything

Trevor (6:12 pm) break a leg!!

He smiled briefly at that, a little relief coming out in a soft sigh. He texted back quickly.

Adrian (6:13 pm) Thanks! 

[Mom]

Lisa (6:15 pm) Break a leg, sweetheart! I’m getting close. Stuck on 5th Ave, but I’ll get there on time. 

Adrian (6:16 pm) Okay, thanks. Is Dad with you? He’s not answering me.

Lisa (6:16 pm) I reminded him a couple days ago, so hopefully he’s on his way. Just put your phone away and concentrate on the performance, okay?

Adrian (6:17 pm) Okay.

* * *

Trevor fidgeted in his seat a little, playing with the program and rolling it in his hands. There had been many performances already. The winner of the Young Artists piano competition had just given his solo, and it was remarkable, but Trevor was only really interested in hearing Adrian play. The curtains closed as the piano was removed and Trevor looked around the beautiful red, gold, and white theater. He peered up at the heavily gilded crown moldings and soft, aristocratic lighting. It was a nicer place than he ever found himself in. He was seated in the first balcony in the second row, which was a wonderful seat to view the musicians on stage. He could see clearly from where he was sitting, and he clapped along with the audience. People coughed and adjusted a bit in the pause between soloists. 

“And now in our Young Artist category, the winner of the Grand Prize for a violin solo, Adrian Tepes.” Another round of applause broke out to welcome him onstage. Trevor clapped his hands, watching his friend walk up on the massive, beautifully ornamented stage. Adrian looked very formal and sleek in a black suit with his long wavy hair tied back in a ponytail at the base of his head. He glided to center stage and took his place in front of the orchestra. There was no stand, no music. He didn’t need it, apparently. Adrian simply looked at the director and positioned his violin on his shoulder, focused and calm as always. The air was still for a moment and then he nodded and the orchestra began to play. Violinists in the background began the piece, plucking and playing their instruments in increasing pitch. The musical tension built up until Adrian began his solo in an abrupt whir of intensity and rapid notes, playing faster and more profoundly than Trevor had ever heard before. 

Loud and then suddenly, soft. Fast and then slow. He played like a true master, or a prodigy, gliding through each note, his bow moving impossibly fast in some parts to be able to play all the notes. Everyone in the theater was held in rapt attention, enamored and shocked by his intense, enigmatic playing style. Then he led the rest of the string orchestra, and they followed him, playing the melody in rapid synchrony. It was beautiful, but then Adrian went off on his own solo again, totally in concentration. Trevor was never used to listening to classical music. Previously, he had thought classical was a boring and archaic musical style, but Adrian brought Vivaldi’s music to life, adding depth, drama and passion to the score. 

Trevor could hardly believe how good Adrian was. A few other violinists had played before him but Adrian shouldn’t even have been in the same stage as them, at least in Trevor’s perspective. He was a league above. Trevor lost focus on everything but him as he played, the sensations of the music physically sweeping over him, entrancing him. He got goosebumps when Adrian hit a high note, holding it before diving back down into the melody, moving his body elegantly with the music. He was a musical genius, that was assured. There was no doubt in Trevor’s mind. He lost track of time when Adrian was playing, and when he finished, it could have been a minute later or an hour. He had no idea. Adrian got a standing ovation, of course, and people even yelled out from the audience ‘Bravo!’. Adrian held his violin in one hand and bowed to the audience, the strong stage lights painting him in bright yellow light. It was a loud barrage of sound as people clapped passionately in his honor. The blonde’s golden eyes darted around until he looked through the front row. There was an empty seat, and as people began to sit down again, Trevor noticed that his mother was there, but his father was absent. He was the empty chair. It was far to see, but Trevor could tell even from the balcony that Adrian’s face fell a little before he walked offstage. 

* * *

After the concert, everyone poured out into the lobby and the hallway. Trevor didn’t have anyone else to talk to, of course, so he put in his earbuds and waited for Adrian to come out. He assumed it would be a while, given the hoards of people waiting in clumps to congratulate the winners. People talked loudly around him, but the earbuds Adrian had given him were strong enough to block out most external noise, and he went on his phone to pick some music out. Idly, he selected the playlist Adrian had made for him and clicked on a Frank Sinatra song. It was the last one in the playlist. He hadn’t tried that one yet.

_I'm a fool to want you_

_I'm a fool to want you_

_To want a love that can't be true_

_A love that's there for others too_

Trevor leaned against the wall, blending in and watching as streams of people exited through the warchways, walked past and conversed with each other. Then he turned his head and looked to his right, where he found Adrian above it all, standing elegantly on the stair. The lights from the ceiling hit him just perfectly, highlighting his body in a ray of light. He had let his hair down, and the voluminous glittery waves fell around his shoulders. A golden tendril curled in at his temple. His pale face was impassive, still, and enigmatic. Once again he was a marble statue, a perfect sculpture amidst a crowd. Trevor watched him closely, paying attention to the smoothness of his movements, the stillness, the sorrow. 

_I'm a fool to hold you_

_Such a fool to hold you_

He was a prince among commoners. No one else even came close, Trevor could see. Everybody was looking at him, staring at the stunning blonde statue in the lobby as they walked by. Everybody wanted to know who he was, if he was as smart and talented as people said he was, if he was really the son of Dracula. But Adrian stayed above it all. He didn’t really engage. His eyes glazed over as he searched the crowd slowly, methodically. His long eyelashes caught the light from above, giving him an appearance that was truly ethereal. Trevor didn’t know if it was his strong Catholic upbringing speaking to him, or just his imagination, but he wondered if Adrian could truly be an angel.

_To seek a kiss not mine alone_

_To share a kiss that devil has known_

People moved down the stairs, away from him, and Trevor saw him even more clearly then. His suit was pitch black, and it made his light blonde hair look like a golden shawl or a mane. He was thin, something obvious when looking at him from the side, with a strong but narrow frame. The suit fit him perfectly, and Trevor couldn’t miss the way his Loubutin’s Oxford shoes shined like a new penny. Everything was perfect about him, everything was beautiful. And yet, in all that perfection, in all that beauty, it was clear that something was wrong. Something was very wrong and it was a strange paradox to behold because it was so obvious, and yet really, so subtle to the eye of the beholder. Trevor knew Adrian well enough to pin it down, this supposed flaw. He was sad. He was incredibly, terribly, horribly sad and alone. It was a recognition that struck Trevor deeply because he knew exactly how that felt. To be alone in a crowd of people. To be sad when everyone assumes you should be happy. 

_Time and time again I said I'd leave you_

_Time and time again I went away_

_But then would come the time when I would need you_

The song, sung so poetically and mournfully by Frank Sinatra, filled him with emotion. It went through his whole body, stirring him, moving him. Adrian had sent him this song, one that Trevor could swear was meant just for him. Perhaps, he posed romantically to himself, for them. He never took his eyes off Adrian, not even for a moment. He watched him descend the stairs, a lovely angel, ethereal and melancholy. Too perfect for this world. Detached, floating, intangible. Their eyes met through the crowd, and it was electric. They didn’t need to say anything, because somehow, it was clear. Trevor’s eyes said it all. _I understand._ He held his gaze even as he finished descending the stairs, and as he weaved through the crowd of strangers.

_And once again these words I had to say_

_Take me back, I love you_

_Pity me, I need you_

And Trevor realized, finally, how much he wanted him. It wasn’t how he expected it to feel. It wasn’t light and sunny, this feeling, so new in his chest. It was sweet and painful, lovely, and tragic, somehow. It was an ache. Foolish, inexcusable desire for a sad and beautiful boy far above his station. Trevor knew he didn’t belong there. He felt like a servant boy wanting after his young master, watching him descend a staircase at a palace with misplaced, foolish desire. 

_I know it's wrong, it must be wrong_

_But right or wrong I can't get along_

_Without you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Review!
> 
> Thank you :)


	17. After The Concert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian and Trevor spend time alone together after the concert. Things are bound to get a little messy.

**CHAPTER 17: After The Concert**

* * *

The outfits posted at the end if you're interested!

* * *

“Trevor, thank you for coming.”

Adrian offered a small smile. Trevor nodded, moving closer. People walked around them in the crowd, moving toward the exit.

“You were- _amazing_. Seriously,” he exhaled, “That was- something else. You’re a musical genius.” Adrian huffed and shook his head, trying to be modest. 

“No, no. I just practiced a lot.”

“ _Hah!_ I could practice for twenty years and only be half as good as that. You were playing so fast I thought one of your strings would break off.”

“Sometimes they do.” Trevor made a face and shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Anyway, you were fantastic.”

“Thank you.” There was silence and Trevor looked around. Adrian had been in a group of people earlier on, and Trevor thought he spotted his mom and perhaps a reporter or two, but not the one person that he was expecting to see.

“...Your dad didn’t show, did he?”

“No, he- no he didn’t.” He tried to be casual about it but it was glaringly obvious to Trevor that he was sad about it.

“ _Are you okay?_ ”

“Yeah,” he snapped back to perfection, “some people said hello and congratulations but they all left.”

“Okay. So… the party-”

“It’s not happening.”

“Sorry about that. Do you… wanna go to a bar or something? To celebrate?” He tried to be nice, but Adrian obviously wasn't in the mood.

“Eh, I don’t know. We should probably just go back to my Airbnb. I have plenty of food and liquor. I had planned a party and everything, so I guess we can knock ourselves out.”

“Literally?” Trevor winked, and Adrian groaned a little at his booze-guzzling antics.

“No. _Jesus._ ”

“I’m just kidding.” They looked around at all the people they didn't know and Adrian quickly turned to leave.

“Come on, let’s go.”

A man stopped them on the way out. He shook Adrian's hand, smiling politely.

“Congratulations, Adrian. It was a wonderful solo. Vivaldi would be overjoyed to hear you perform his music.”

“Thank you," Adrian nodded, but he didn't pause to make conversation.

They walked out of the Carnegie Hall onto 7th Ave, standing under the skyscrapers. Adrian hailed a cab in the traffic. They got in quickly, trying to get out of the cold rainy drizzle. Trevor pulled his backpack onto his lap. He exhaled a shaky breath. Adrian was looking out the window, and Trevor could tell that he was deeply bothered. _I need to try to make conversation. I wish Sypha was here. I'm so bad at this._

“I think I saw your mom in the audience, right?” 

“Yeah," his voice was monotone, empty, "But she left as soon as it ended. She has a shift tomorrow at five in the morning.”

“Oh, okay.” Horns honked outside the car and police sirens blared in the distance. A black Lamborghini rolled past.

“It’s just us. I was planning for a party of twenty people or more, so we’ll have plenty of food, I guess,” he laughed without humor, a sad smirk on his face.

“Sorry about that.”

“Whatever. We can watch a movie or something, I guess.”

“Okay.” He could tell Adrian was in a sad mood and he tried not to bother him too much. The ride to the Airbnb apartment was mostly quiet. They went up in the elevator and entered the apartment pretty much silently.

As soon as he walked in, Trevor gasped. It was the most amazing view he could imagine in an NYC apartment. The colossal, two-story windows showed the impressive views of Manhattan and beyond. He spotted the Chrysler building and New York Life Building in the window. It was nighttime, but the rain was clearing, so the lights from the buildings and the streets below lit up the darkness. There were faint sounds of Saturday night traffic below along with the distant thumping of nightclubs and general commotion on the streets. 

“The view is,” he chuckled, “unbelievable… I’d feel like a king living with this view.”

“It is really nice. If I move to the city after college, maybe I’d take this place. Who knows?” He put his wallet and cigarettes on the granite countertop.

“Do you think you’ll move back to the city after college?” Trevor asked, looking back over his shoulder.

“I’m not sure yet. My mom would like me to go to med school at Columbia, so maybe I will. I have to see where my parents will let me go and what I’m doing after med school.”

“Hm.” Trevor moved to the long luxurious kitchen, where Adrian was standing.

“There’s a second bedroom, so you can sleep in there. I got some catering from Nobu, which was supposed to be for the party, of course,” he explained unenthusiastically, opening the fridge door to show Trevor, “Sushi, rock shrimp, vegetable tempura. Mochi. Help yourself to the snacks,” he gestured to the counter where lots of appetizers were covered with plastic wrap on pretty trays.

“Sweet. Sounds great.”

Adrian shrugged off his coat and gloves, throwing them on a bench. Trevor followed suit. The living room had all white modern furniture. A large L-shaped couch, a big dining table, and some benches. A few artsy gold “hand” chairs sat by the window. _They would be great for taking pictures._ There was a large circle mirror and a modern dangling light fixture. _Rich people shit._ Sculptures on pedestals. The whole room was backlit with LED strip lights that weren’t even visible. They were cleverly hidden under the counters and furniture to make everything seem like it was glowing blue and pink. A gold and glass bar cart displayed three big bottles of Dom Perignon along with ice, a martini shaker, bottles of liquor, and garnishes. 

“It was set up for the party, that’s why there’s all this stuff. You can help yourself to the alcohol. I’ll have to take most of it home.” Adrian sighed in exasperation. “I’m going to change.”

“Okay, me too. Which bedroom is mine?” Adrian pointed down the hall past the living room. They both changed into comfortable clothes. Trevor put on his only pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, feeling much more comfortable. Adrian changed into a black and beige Burberry cashmere sweater with stripes across the chest and black slim cut jogger pants. He walked down the staircase to join Trevor in the kitchen.

“Let’s eat. This food looks really great. I’ve only had sushi like once or twice before. Which is which?” He had pulled the big tray of catered sushi out. 

“That’s tuna, that’s shrimp, salmon, avocado, eel, lobster and squid. The rock shrimp is the orange stuff in the bowl. It’s a little spicy. And there’s fresh ginger and wasabi for in between bites.”

“Sweet.” Trevor and Adrian got some food and sat at the table to eat. Trevor tried to figure out how to use his chopsticks and eat the sushi, which Adrian would have found comical if he was in a better mood. He mostly just played with his sushi, only eating little pieces and a few of the rock shrimp. Once Trevor had finally gotten accustomed to the new utensils, and figured out how to eat a piece of sushi without having it fall apart in his mouth, he enjoyed it, but he noticed Adrian didn’t care. He seemed diminished, like he was suffering internally from something unsaid. When they finished eating Trevor tried to cheer him up.

“Hey, _why don’t I make you a drink?_ We can pop some champagne, or - you have _great_ liquor here- let me make you a cocktail, okay? What do you want?"

Adrian blinked, coming out of a reverie. 

“A gimlet. Thanks.”

“That sounds fancy. What is that, again?”

“Vodka, simple syrup, fresh lime juice.”

“You got it.” Trevor made his drink and handed it over to Adrian as he sat at the couch, looking over the black and white skyline.

“Thanks.” Trevor made himself a whiskey sour and sat adjacent to Adrian at the couch, sighing in relief. He loved ending the day with a strong drink. Adrian was vacant again, staring into the distance. He did that a lot, Trevor noticed.

“What are you thinking?”

Adrian snapped back to look at him.

“Oh, I-” he sighed, “I don’t know. Things didn’t turn out like I wanted them to.”

“Mm. You still won the grand prize, though. Congratulations, again. You were really amazing.”

“Thanks,” he almost whimpered. They both took a drink. Then another, and Trevor finally spoke up.

“You’re sad because your dad didn’t show, aren’t you?”

“...yeah. But it’s more than that.”

“Is it?” He heard Adrian take in a breath and let it go.

“I don’t think he cares about me anymore. I thought he was getting better, but now… now I think he’s getting worse. I’m worried that he’s backsliding. My family,” he sighed again, “it’s like we’re not even a family right now. It’s like he’s ignoring us. And I know I shouldn’t care about it, because it shouldn't mean so much to me, but- he -he hasn’t talked to me in _weeks_. I don’t know where he is, I don’t know what he’s doing. He posted something on Instagram the other day, but he hasn’t texted me back for like two weeks.”

“ _Holy shit!_ " Trevor sat forward, drink sloshing a little, "What an asshole!”

“Mhm,” Adrian mumbled, playing with the sleeve of his sweater. Trevor calmed, sitting back again.

“Adrian, seriously, I’m sorry. You- don’t deserve that. And your mom shouldn’t have left you either.”

“Well, she has an early shift tomorrow.”

“It’s ten o’clock! And she has an apartment in the city, right? I don't think that’s an excuse. Your family should have taken you out for a celebration tonight.”

Adrian looked positively miserable even though it was supposed to be his big night.

“I don’t know if we’re going to do things like that anymore. I don’t even know what’s happening. Neither I nor my mom even knows where he _is_. But he’s not dead or anything- I mean, he’s posting on social media, but - he doesn’t text me back.”

“Did you call him?”

“ _Several times._ " His face looked like the disappointment he was feeling wasn't that unusual for him, however saddening.

“ _Fuck him_ , Adrian. I was dead serious when I told you that he treated my parents like shit. He degraded them, he tried to bring down my family’s company. He bugged our phone lines. He slammed my dad’s name in the press, he said all kinds of shit.” Adrian looked up at him, thinking about it. He nodded slowly.

“Yeah.”

“He’s shit. And I’m sorry that he’s your dad, honestly. You shouldn’t have to deal with that. Look, I’m not a shrink, but this is my advice, okay?” He leaned forward, taking a sip of his whiskey.

Adrian looked at him curiously. Trevor looked like he was trying to say something important.

“You’re young, you’re smart. Incredibly talented. Classy, rich, nice-ish, you have friends… Not to mention, you’re, you know-” he looked away briefly, chuckling under his breath, “you’re gorgeous and all that. An actual model. You do great in school, you drive a Rolls Royce. So, you know, forget him! You don’t need anything from him. Other than money. If I were you I would just give up on him, and give up on trying to make that relationship work. Focus on the people you actually like. And who actually like you back. Like _me_ and _Sypha_.”

“You like me?” A small expression of hope flashed on his face.

“Of course I do.” Trevor made it sound obvious. Adrian smiled a little.

“That’s nice to say.”

“ _I mean it!_ You’re such an amazing and talented person. Why do you need him to validate that for you? Why do you need him to be there? I mean, I understand-" he paused, fumbling, "I’m just trying to- Thousands of people came to watch you perform. _Thousands._ Try not to let one asshole ruin that for you. I know your party is ruined and everything but-” he sighed, “you still won. And that means a lot. You were _incredible._ Like no one I’ve ever heard before. You’re _so good._ ”

“Thanks, Trevor. I-” he blushed a bit, smiling, “You’re a good friend. Thank you.”

A close moment passed. Literally, because they were sitting quite close together. Trevor took another sip of whiskey.

“You’re welcome.”

“...You’re right. Thanks for saying that,” he sighed slowly, “You’re right. I shouldn't care. It’s just- so disappointing sometimes. So…” he groaned a little.

“I get that. It sucks having people bail on you.”

“Yeah. It does.”

They talked for a while, conversing back and forth, and drinking plenty. Trevor drank much more than Adrian, as per usual, getting himself drunk easily and eagerly. The alcohol was good and he enjoyed talking with Adrian, even though the blonde was in a sad mood.

“ _So_ …” Trevor looked out the window at the twinkling city in front of them, “Are you really going to live here? After college?”

“I don’t know. My future- it - isn’t really in my hands. My parents pick what I do. When it’s time for me to apply for medical schools, they’ll tell me which ones to apply to, and they’ll probably choose the school. I’m guessing Columbia because that’s my mom’s alma mater.”

“And then you’ll be a neurosurgeon? Here in Manhattan?”

“I guess. Where else would I go? They live here most of the time.”

“Adrian-” he faltered while thinking about the question he wanted to ask, and changed his mind, “If you could have total freedom, if your parents suddenly decided you have zero rules, zero expectations in life, and you can do whatever you want, live wherever you want, what would you do?” Adrian tilted his head, shifting expressions.

“Like, in my dream life? As a full adult?”

“Yeah.” 

“ _Oh,_ ” Adrian seemed startled by the question, but he thought about it, “I’d move to Paris, maybe. Or, I don’t know, for sure. Maybe someplace else, somewhere I’ve never lived in the US. Like Virginia or - Maine. Maybe in some cute town with a lot of artists. Or somewhere near the city, so I could drive-in. There’s this little town called Hudson, south of Albany. It’s very beautiful and artistic. Maybe there.” Trevor nodded, thinking about it. It seemed like Adrian was totally unaccustomed to having someone ask him what he wanted.

“Okay. What would you do?”

“I’d be an artist,” the blonde became more animated, gesticulating with his hands, “I’d have my own building with a gallery on the bottom floor, and a studio on the upper floor. A townhouse on the main street, you know? And I’d go to the art conventions and stuff like that. On the weekends I’d go to art fairs and farmer’s markets and listen to live music in the coffee shop around the corner. Or I’d travel around, see the surrounding towns, go see new places. I’d probably spend part of the year in Paris. Maybe I’d spend spring in Paris, and I’d have my own gallery there too, with a pretty apartment. A traditional Parisian apartment, _joli et classique_ , you know? 

And I’d sit at little french cafes, drinking coffee and smoking with strangers. Meeting new people. Or just walking around the city, enjoying everything. The food, the fashion, the history. With no tests to study for and no quotas to meet. No grades, no obligations. I could be… free,” he sighed at that, getting lost in the fantasy, “I could sit on the Seine in the summer and take my art materials and just sit down and start drawing. Maybe people would ask me to draw them, and I would, and it would make them smile. And I could paint, both in the city and in the countryside. I could go to the old chateaus that they renovate into boutique hotels and paint the grounds. The gardens and the classic french buildings. People lounging in the grass, the sun over the trees, that sort of thing. And I could just sit with friends and laugh and listen to old jazz music, without a care in the world. No meetings, no classes, no expectations.” Trevor nodded slowly and then he smiled. 

“What else? I like this dream of yours. Sounds pretty good.”

“And I could get a tattoo. Or three. And wear what I want all the time. And I could swear- in public, even. And I could kiss a man on the street, with no care in the world. And someone could yell at us and I wouldn't even care, I’d just shout ‘ _foutre le camp_ ’ at him.” He was a little tispy and therefore started throwing french around. Trevor laughed but he didn't understand.

“What’s that mean?”

“Fuck off.”

Trevor laughed. But then he scowled again, confused about it.

“Wait. You can’t kiss a man on the street _now_?”

Adrian's expression fell.

“...I’m not supposed to. I’m not publicly bisexual. My father, he- he says it’s not a good idea. To be open about my bisexuality. I think he’s scared of what people will say about me. And about him. He’s always thinking about the company, about his colleagues, and his board members and things. And some of them are definitely conservatives. It was - strongly implied by him that it would be too much of a pain and inconvenience for him if I came out publicly. So, I’m only supposed to be with men in private. Or not at all. That’s basically how it came across- you can be bisexual, just make sure people don’t find out because that would be disastrous.” 

“Jesus, I’m sorry about that. Wait- is your dad a liberal or a conservative?” Trevor had looked online but he had never found the answer.

“He’s nonpartisan. He doesn’t take a political stance for the benefit of the company. And for himself, honestly. He would get lots of background if he picked a side. But he doesn’t talk about his political opinions publicly.”

“Well, he’s your dad, surely you must know.”

“I’m really not supposed to say.” 

“That’s total shit!” Trevor raised his voice, “You should do what you want. What do you owe him?” Trevor poured himself another drink and went to town.

“Honestly, he’s neither a Democrat nor a Republican. He’s- more in the middle I guess, and his opinions can change with time. He has some opinions on particular issues, but he’s not partisan.”

“Really? Which way does he lean, though?”

“Whichever way will benefit him. And the company. He doesn’t make enemies in the White House. Instead, he finds ways to be friendly or get along with whatever the current establishment is. He was friendly with Obama. We all got along, of course. Or maybe you don’t know that. He really tried to be polite and get along with Obama.”

“I saw a picture of them together online.”

“Yeah, I mean CTC is one of the largest and most important companies in the country, so they had a working relationship. I went to the White House for dinner a couple of times.” _Holy shit._

“ _You met Obama?_ ”

“Yeah. I’m the same age as his daughters. They’re nice. He’s nice, too. I liked him.” He shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal to have dinner with the President and his family. Trevor supposed that for him, it wasn’t.

“Yeah, I bet. Obama’s cool. I can’t believe- well, I shouldn’t say that. I can believe you met him. What about Trump? Did you ever meet Trump?”

“Yes,” he groaned, “at an event. Fuck him. People say my dad’s a psychopath? _Ha!_ Trump is an actual psychopath, not joking. _Psy-cho-path._ ” He stressed the words for emphasis.

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. He fits all the characteristics of a psychopath. Impulsive, socially irresponsible, violating other people’s rights, no sense of right or wrong, compulsive liar, manipulative. Superficial charm but cold as ice underneath. And angry. That’s what an actual psychopath is. They don’t know what good is, or what kindness is. They just do whatever they want with no regard for anything or anyone else. My dad’s not really like that. He’s cold and calculating a lot of the time, and he can be a total asshole, tonight included, but he’s not a psychopath. He can love people. I know he can. He can feel guilt. Trump can’t do either of those things.”

“ _Wow_.” Trevor didn't know what else to say about that.

“I met his son. Trump's youngest son, I mean. Barron.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I sat next to him at the event dinner. They seated us next to each other, I guess because we were the only young people there. I was 17 and he was 12. And then I saw him again at some kind of event last year, briefly. I feel- this sounds weird," he chuckled under his breath, "I know it's odd, but I feel some sort of connection to him or something. I guess I just- I feel like he would understand me if he got to know me. We’ve had pretty similar upbringings, you know? Powerful, controversial fathers. Older fathers. And younger, foreign mothers. Kept out of the spotlight. Private school, all that. Lots of money and nice things but very little freedom or options in life. Almost none at all. Ah. I wish I could get to know him better, even if that doesn’t make any sense.”

Trevor thought about it, nodding. It did make sense. He thought about Barron Trump, locked in the White House. No freedom. A gilded cage is still a cage, after all. 

“Why don’t you just text him? Maybe you two would get along.” Adrian pursed his lips and shook his head.

“No. No, I don’t want to get involved with his family at all. That could be- dangerous. They’re a dangerous family. I don’t want to say any more about it, but,” he looked out the window, “I know things about them. I would never want to get Donald Trump on my bad side. I’m a liberal, of course, and I’m not straight. If I started talking to his teenage son he might think I was _corrupting him_ or something like that. And I don’t know if Barron would ever talk to me anyway. We both have fathers who make it very, very difficult for us to have personal lives. Or personal opinions.”

“ _Geez_. That’s- _crazy_. Your whole life is crazy. To an average nobody like me, your problems seem like something out of a movie.”

Adrian laughed dryly. “I suppose so… But you know what it’s like, too. I mean, you worry about people judging you. Your hockey team. You said they would be rude if it got around that you had kissed me.” Trevor looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t deny it.

“Oh, yeah. I- I’m in the locker room with them. I hear them talk. Some of them are definitely conservatives. They make fun of gay guys a lot sometimes. When we go to a bar or something. It’s not outright, it’s more like-”

“-veiled homophobia?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“What do you say?” Adrian asked. Trevor raised his brows

“What am I supposed to say? I don’t go along with it. Obviously. I mean, they don’t go up to anyone or yell it. They just whisper it, you know? They make little comments, and you can just tell by the tone of their voice.”

“Yeah,” he rolled his gold eyes, “I know _all about that_. I get it a lot. _A lot._ ”

“From strangers?”

“Sometimes. But I meant from my dad. He’s not outwardly homophobic but I can tell he doesn’t like it. He wishes I was straight, totally masculine, manly, and all that. But he never says it out loud. It’s like you say, it’s like little comments. It’s obvious from the tone of his voice.”

“What do you say back to him?” Adrian finished his gimlet. Trevor made him another.

“Sometimes I confront him about it. I wore a crop top once, just when I was going out to run errands, and I came home and he kind of freaked out about it- like it was such a crazy thing to do. And it wasn’t even that cropped, it was just this white oversized t-shirt that was cropped a bit so my stomach showed. And I wore it with black jeans. It wasn't that crazy, and I don’t care if people don’t like it. You critique my fashion, too, but-”

“You have great fashion!” Trevor blurted out. Adrian made a face of surprise.

“Since when do you think that?” 

“I do. Most of the time when I look at your outfits I think ‘Damn, I wish I had money. He looks great.’” 

“Thanks. Anyway, he freaked out and went through all my clothes. He said they were too wild, too modern, too revealing, and all that, and he made me throw out like a quarter of my clothes. My more creative stuff. Some of it was kind of- goth. The rest of it was just a bit more feminine or genderless, I suppose. It was really annoying. I was mad at him for that for like a month, but he didn’t really care. He can’t stand when I do things like that.”

“Like _what?_ ”

“Like when I wear something that doesn’t look straight or express myself with my clothing or my style. He screens my outfits _a lot_. To approve them. And I’m 19. I think he’s worried I’ll look obviously gay or depressed or something and then he’ll have to explain the situation to people. He doesn’t want it to be obvious or perceptible that I’m not totally happy and hetero, basically. It _pisses me off_ sometimes. I can never do what I want. He screens my Instagram, too. All my socials. That's why it looks so - _perfect_. I mean, Instagram's never real, but mine is... very regulated and monitored. He has an alert for all my socials and checks everything I ever post. And if I post something that goes ‘too far’ he’ll ask me questions until I give up and delete it, stuff like that. Or he'll just straight up tell me to delete it.”

“Fuck him. For real. That’s awful.” 

“He doesn’t want our family to take a partisan stance because he might lose support or lose customers. He doesn’t want to do what Jeff Bezos did. Even though Jeff tries not to take any political stance, he still tangles with Trump. And he pays for it. Amazon pays for it. Trump is not someone you want to mess with. He doesn’t give a shit about anything but himself. He doesn’t care about this country, only himself and maybe some of his kids. But not really. It's more about the succession of the family line. Fat pig,” he muttered at the end, which as definitely not a comment he would make in public, but Trevor chuckled, nodding.

“Yeah. You’re right about that. Why does Trump hate Jeff Bezos?”

“He owns and operates the Washington Post,” Adrian explained, “And Trump hates every part of the news conglomerate except for FOX.”

“Oh, right.” 

“Anyway, my dad really, really doesn’t want to get caught up in that. He doesn’t want anything that will pull him, and consequently, CTC, into a war with Trump. Things get nasty very quickly. So my father cooperates with him, instead. It makes me angry sometimes. When Trump said that transgender people can't use what bathroom they want, Apple put out a statement saying that they didn't support it. Tim Cook said he didn't agree with it. But my Dad? Silent. Even when I tried to tell him he needed to put out a statement. Nothing. He doesn't do that. He pays for his lobbyists, but he doesn't personally go against Trump, or any sitting president. He doesn't make enemies in the White House. I'm not saying he should be enemies with Trump or anything, I just can't believe how silent he is on the issues."

"He cares more about himself and the company than making moral or political stances."

"Exactly. And it was hard to get Trump to have a working relationship with CTC after we were being so cozy with the Obamas. My mom got along well with Michelle, and they're still friends. It pisses Trump off. I know my father had to do a lot to get to the friendly position he has with the Trump administration. I'm pretty sure Trump thinks he's conservative. He's acting more like a Republican in these little subtle ways, and it's all the worse for me. Everything's worse for me with this new far-right administration. I have to be so-not like myself. And I'm not the only one who hates it. My mom was _pissed_ when we had to have dinner with them.”

“Is she liberal?”

Adrian nodded ‘yes’.

“But she’s not public about it?”

“Well, her friends know she is. I know she is. She donates to some more liberal organizations, but she’s not public about it either. Because of my dad. Because he doesn’t want to deal with people asking him anything like that. Like ‘Why are you married to a liberal?’ or ‘Why do you and your wife let your son dress like that?’ and ‘Is your son a homo?’. Someone asked him that, once. At a party. It pissed him off. All my dad cares about lately is success, and power, and money. My mom and I are secondary. At least in the past year or so, we are. He’s really gotten obsessed with it lately. His own power, I mean. And I have to deal with it, even if I don’t want to. I have to go to dinner with Donald-fucking-Trump and his _pornstar mail order bride_.” 

Trump snorted mid-sip. He coughed a little and laughed, whiskey sour in his nose.

“Was she really a pornstar?” Adrian made a face.

“Yeah, pretty much. Soft porn, I guess. Look it up. I wish I never would have seen it. It’s worse when you have to sit next to her all night and know what she looks like naked,” he grimaced. “Ugh, I need another drink.” He got up and made himself another gimlet while Trevor thought about what he had said.

“It must be really awful having to deal with your father and all his rules.”

Adrian nodded and played with his long, shiny, golden hair, twirling a strand and pulling on it a bit. A thought occurred to Trevor as he watched him. 

“Do you grow your hair out that long just to piss him off?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “I do. I started doing it in high school and it ticked him off, and now that it’s been like this for years I just think he’s given up. But he doesn’t like it, no. It’s too long. But I’ll be damned if I’ll let him control my hair. I said ‘it’s my body, I can do what I want with it’ and then we got into a whole other argument about never getting tattoos, no more piercings, etc.” Adrian had both his ears pierced but no tattoos.

“Why don’t you just do it?”

“Get a tattoo?”

“Yeah, just do it and deal with him yelling at you?” Trevor wondered why he feared him so much. He worried about it.

“Oh, he’d make me remove it. He would take me to a removal place and sit there until it was gone.”

“Because he hates them that much?”

“No. For disobeying his order not to get one. And then he probably wouldn’t speak to me for a month. Silent treatment.” Trevor rolled his eyes and sat forward, grabbing Adrian's knee.

“Oh, Jesus. Forget him. I mean it. Please, Adrian. There are people who actually like you. I like you. Sypha likes you. Even our 80-year-old professor in CP class likes you. Just- try to focus on _us_ , will you?”

“Thanks," he smiled a little, trying to convince himself, "I will.”

“Sypha and me, we’ll try to get your mind off of things. Okay? We’ll hang out with you. Take you to parties. You’ll forget about it eventually. I hope.”

“Well, he’s going to have to talk to me eventually. Mom won’t let him be silent forever.”

“Okay. I just mean, even if he’s Mr. Asshole, we’ll-we’ll help you through it. We’ll make sure you’re alright.” Adrian smiled warmly, gratitude on his handsome face.

 _Ping!_ Trevor looked down at his old iPhone. 

[New Message: Salvatore]

Salvatore (8:09 pm) Trevor you’re late for your shift again! Where are you? I need you to work the register NOW

Salvatore (10:05 pm) You’re fired! Don’t come back here. I’ll find someone who shows up

Trevor sighed. He deleted the conversation and Salvatore’s number.

“What is it?” Adrian asked, worried for him. Trevor threw his phone into a chair and finished off his second whiskey sour, tossing it back.

“I just got fired.” He set the drink down a little loudly. Adrian gasped.

“What? Why?” He sounded worried, scooting closer to him.

“I didn’t show up,” he shrugged, looking over at the blonde man, “I was supposed to work tonight. But - I didn’t show, obviously. Thought that might happen.” Adrian blinked, looking at him with a serious expression.

“...you came to my concert even though you knew you might _lose your job?_ ” He was in awe, baffled, and almost out of breath at the thought. Trevor blinked repeatedly. He didn’t know what to say, so he just shrugged, but Adrian didn’t want to let it go.

“You cared more about supporting me at my concert than keeping your job? And you’re _broke?_ ” He almost couldn’t believe it. Trevor looked at him as he tried to put the pieces together. Trevor felt uncomfortable having to admit it, so he tried to shrug it off.

“It was just a job at a pizza place. I can get another job.”

“Still,” he leaned over towards Trevor, his eyes flicking over his handsome face, “it means a lot. My own family didn’t even stay to support me… but _you’re_ here.” Trevor almost blushed. He looked down at his tan, dry hands, playing with his short nails. He was surprised when he saw Adrian’s perfect, elegant hand reach over to him. It was pale, soft, and thin. Trevor looked up, ice blue eyes blown wide, stunned as the other man intertwined his hand with his own. Adrian’s expression was peaceful, grateful, contented. It made something in Trevor ache, and when he looked down at their locked hands it only increased. 

“Thank you.” It was so soft, so gentle, it was almost a whisper. Trevor startled when Adrian rubbed his thumb over his, brushing the knuckle gently. A knot rose in Trevor’s throat and he didn’t really understand why. He pulled away from the touch.

“You’re welcome. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“...yeah, it is. You’re the only one who stayed. It means a lot to me.” Trevor could feel the heaviness in the air, even though they weren’t touching anymore. He stood, suddenly, unsure of what he might do. Adrian’s eyes followed him as he went to look at the window, standing over the city. He looked very handsome in the soft nighttime glow, the lights from the city laid out in front of him. Adrian could tell there was something going on with him, something serious and introspective. He saw it earlier when they had met in Carnegie Hall. Some look in Trevor’s eyes that he couldn't quite place. The man was struggling with something, he could tell. Adrian got up too, joining him by the windows. He glanced over the city, but his eyes were for Trevor. He took in his side profile, complete with a slight scowl and a frown on his full lips. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Trevor grumbled, blinking out of it. 

“Did I make you uncomfortable or something? I’m sorry if I did.” Adrian scowled.

“What?” Trevor huffed.

“I know some people don’t like being touched. I guess I should have asked first.”

Trevor shook his head, confused. 

“No, it’s fine- I just,” he sighed, “I just need some air. Let’s go outside. I want a smoke.”

“Okay. Sure,” he walked towards the coat closet, “Let’s go up to the roof.” He slipped on his Saint Laurent shearling coat and grabbed his Marlboros from the counter. Trevor put on his own coat and they went upstairs to the rooftop. It was chilly outside, but the views were phenomenal and the rain had cleared. The city was slick with cool rain and it made the buildings shine in the electric lights.

“Wow,” Trevor chuckled, “The view’s even better up here.”

“Yeah. It is.” They both looked around for a minute. Adrian pulled out a cigarette and tried to light up, but he was struggling with the breeze. Trevor noticed and came up to him. 

“Let me help,” he offered, taking the lighter and stepping in so they were only a breath away from each other. Trevor helped Adrian with the wind, using his hands to try and block it. It took several tries, but eventually he got it. He caught a glimpse of Adrian’s long lashes before he looked up, meeting Trevor’s gaze. It was an intimate moment and Trevor struggled to pull his eyes from the beauty, stepping away and lighting his own cigarette. He moved towards the edge to look out at the city laid before them in the night.

“Don’t get too close to the edge. You’re kinda drunk.” 

“I’m not that close,” he muttered, looking back out at the view. Adrian opted to stay back, relaxing against the brick wall of the stair entrance, smoking in silence. He watched Trevor take in the city for a while. Trains rolled under their feet, taxis honked their horns, laughter erupted faintly from the streets below. There were distant sounds of clubs and cars and commotion, all stirred into the beautiful mess of New York City. Trevor took a drag and looked back to Adrian, noticing him leaning up against the brick wall. Casually elegant, smoking without remorse. But the man’s gorgeous golden eyes weren’t fixed on the city lights, they were on him. And Trevor couldn’t peel himself away from the other man’s heavily lidded and possibly sultry gaze. It was unfamiliar, but Trevor was too drunk to deny that he liked it. He put out his cigarette and tossed the butt over the edge. 

Adrian watched him as he approached slowly, one hand in his coat pocket and the other at his lips, holding his cigarette between thin, long fingers. Trevor watched him just the same, and they said nothing for a while. Adrian’s long blonde hair blew in the breeze and Trevor stepped in close, very close. Without thinking, he touched his hair, grasping a stray lock and brushing it back, playing with it. His finger’s brushed Adrian’s cool cheek. Trevor licked his lips, thinking to himself, but finding it hard to talk himself out of what he knew he wanted. Adrian took a drag, saying nothing, letting Trevor play with his hair. He dropped his hand suddenly and put the cigarette out on the wall, letting it fall. He arched up and outward a little, almost brushing his chest against Trevor’s. But that only encouraged Trevor to step in even closer.

“Adrian, you were outstanding tonight. I -I couldn’t believe my ears. Honestly, it was- you’re amazing,” he sighed softly, “You’re really amazing.” Adrian searched his face, smiling a little.

“Thank you,” he whispered softly.

“Look, I know you’re disappointed about how things turned out. And because nobody else stayed or went to your party or anything, but - don’t let that ruin this for you. You were unbelievably good. When you were playing it was like,” he faltered, trying to describe it, “you left the physical world behind and you just poured your soul out into the music. It gave me tingles. Goosebumps, you know- all over my body. It was that good. Everyone was just stunned listening to you, because you’re mesmerizing. I- I could barely believe it. You’re the most amazing musician I’ve ever heard.”

“Wow.” Adrian became a little embarrassed because it was obvious Trevor wasn’t joking.

“I mean it.” 

“Thank you. It means a lot,” he blushed, touching Trevor’s arm affectionately. His blue eyes flickered down to Adrian’s elegant hand on his sleeve before he dropped it. There was a strange silence between them. Trevor watched his eyes flicking over to the city before they focused back on him. He didn’t know what was coming, but he was sure Adrian had something to say. He had that air about him, that deep expression that came along with important words.

“Trevor,” Adrian exhaled deeply, “You know how you said before that you don’t understand me?” He tilted his head a little, blonde waves falling over his shoulder. 

“Yeah.” Trevor nodded, not sure of where he was going.

“Sometimes... I really don’t understand you either,” Adrian looked down, closing his eyes, “It’s like- you can’t make up your mind or something? I’m not sure.”

“What?” Trevor huffed. “Make up my mind?”

Adrian shifted, uncrossing his ankles. He leaned against the wall again, hands tucked in the pockets of his gorgeous YSL fur coat. Trevor looked him up and down.

“About me. When I see you, when I talk to you, I wonder… is he going to be nice to me? Does he actually like me or is he just… forcing himself to like me?” His gaze was far away, on the buildings, like it would hurt him to look at Trevor while saying what he was saying. 

“Adrian,” Trevor grunted, upset by the admission. He sighed. Adrian kept going, lips parted slightly, a serious, thoughtful expression in his eyes as they flickered around.

“Sometimes you’re rude, or you yell at me, and then sometimes you,” he huffed in bafflement, “you apologize to me with such sincerity, or you do this- you lose your job just to come up here and support me. But then other times you play games with me, or you mock me even after you said you wouldn’t anymore. What does that say? I can’t tell sometimes if- if you like me,” his gaze flicked up to meet Trevor’s, eyes lidded, “or if you hate me.” 

Trevor was shocked by the admission. He stared at him in shocked silence for a moment, mouth open, a scowl on his attractive face. He stepped in close. Too close. Dangerously close. His voice lowered to a whisper.

“You think I hate you?” 

Adrian blinked, waiting for him to tell the truth. 

“Hate you…” Trevor muttered, shaking his head, “Adrian, how could I hate you?” He was suddenly very close, very quiet. Adrian tilted his head up to look at him, his face only a breath away. He glanced down at Trevor’s lips briefly, exhaling a little. His cheeks were getting pink from the cold. Their eyes met again.

“What do you feel, then?” He asked softly, apprehensive, “About me?” 

Trevor brushed Adrian’s hair back again, running it through his fingers and moving his hand to grasp him by the back of the neck. He brought Adrian closer, meeting his gaze, and there was a moment between them so intense, so heavy with desire, it left nothing to be imagined. They both felt it, the insatiable pull of mutual desire. Trevor kissed him forcefully, his lips pressing against Adrian’s in a rush of excitement and passion, demonstrating his affection. Adrian didn’t jump or pull away. He wanted it just the same, and he kissed him back, he parted his lips, and when Trevor slid his tongue against his, he moaned into the other man’s mouth. Trevor was incessant, unrelenting. He held Adrian’s lithe form against him with his free hand, pulling him close. Adrian wrapped his arms around Trevor’s shoulders, eagerly accepting the kiss of passion.

The winter breeze up on the rooftop was cold, but Trevor’s lips and body were warm, and Adrian moaned at the feeling when the other man pulled his hair back and dipped down to kiss his neck. He gasped and sighed, toes curling a little in his boots at the sensation. The other man’s hard body was flush against his, and his coat was open, so Adrian brought his hands down to slide inside, holding him by the waist. He palmed Trevor’s t-shirt, finding his hard body and feeling his warmth. Trevor didn’t stop. He let everything out. All of his desire and lust. And Adrian loved it. He loved the feeling of Trevor’s stubble and wet, warm lips on his neck. When he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot at the apex between Adrian’s jaw and his throat, he cried out,

“Trevor!” Which only encouraged the other man. After a while, Trevor pulled away, only for a moment, taking a look at Adrian’s beautiful face, his pale cheeks rosy. Trevor took his face in his large hands, running a thumb over his cheek and jaw. It was dark and he was sort of drunk, but he could still see Adrian clearly. Gold eyes, arched brows, sharp cheekbones, straight nose, pink, pouty lips. He couldn't get enough of him, kissing and touching and moaning against him. He reached down to pull Adrian’s hips flush against him, aching for a bit of friction between their bodies. Adrian let it go on for a while, himself fully enjoying the feelings between them, but after a while, he regained his thoughts and remembered what they were doing. Trevor’s hardened length, pressed firmly against his own, was a strong reminder that he was letting this go too far. He tried to break away, pulling his hips back and putting his hands on Trevor’s chest. 

“Trevor,” he muttered in between wet kisses, “Trevor, we can’t. We can’t. I- I have a girlfriend.” At that, Trevor pulled back, blinking several times, like he just realized what he had done. He was dizzy when he pulled back, his hot breath fogging in the cold air. Trevor adjusted himself, taking a step back and exhaling deeply.

“Right. I’m... I’m sorry. Fuck. I shouldn’t have done that,” he put a hand over his face, sighing and running his fingers through his hair in a nervous gesture. He breathed rapidly, dropping his hand and looking at Adrian with remorse.

“I’m sorry.” He paled, upset with himself for kissing him without thinking. He turned away, but Adrian walked up behind him.

“It’s okay. I’m not mad at you,” Adrian soothed, rubbing his hand across Trevor’s broad, muscular back. Trevor stilled at the touch. It felt good, but he was still reeling from what just happened. He turned around and looked at Adrian with a pained expression. Then he looked out at the city, silent for a moment.

“You’re dating, Sypha, aren’t you?” Adrian cleared his throat.

“Yeah. We started dating like a week ago. Sorry, I didn’t tell you, she- she wanted to keep it a secret for some reason.” He stroked Trevor’s back again, trying to comfort him because he was obviously distressed. 

“I thought so. I don’t know why I did that- I-” he exhaled shakily. “Fuck. I messed this up… Shit.” He sounded genuinely remorseful and worried, but Adrian wasn’t.

“Trevor, it’s okay,” he pulled Trevor back to him, holding his face in his hand. Trevor blinked, searching Adrian’s angelic expression. He felt the other man’s soft, narrow fingers stroking his cheek and the rough skin of his stubbly jaw. 

“Why aren’t you mad at me? Didn’t I just ruin things between us?” He wondered why Adrian looked undisturbed. The blonde scowled and shook his head.

“We literally just started dating, it’s okay. We didn’t say we were exclusive or anything. I just, I don’t want to hurt her feelings, you know? I shouldn’t do something like this without her knowing. It’s not right.” He tried to explain, and Trevor nodded.

“Of course. Yeah, sorry.” He looked away again, too uncomfortable or ashamed to look Adrian in the eyes. He put his hands in his pockets, stepping back.

“Let’s go back downstairs.”

“Do you want me to leave?” 

“No, of course not. Stay.”

“Okay,” he sighed, walking back down the stairwell with Adrian and into the apartment. They sat together on the couch. Adrian drank some water and pulled off his boots. Trevor just sat there, scowling, leaning forward with his head in his hands. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, sighing.

“Trevor?” Adrian began, worried as he watched the other man take a shot from the table and toss it back, almost slamming it back on the table.

“Trevor? Talk to me. Please,” Adrian insisted, touching his shoulder. 

“What do you want me to say?” He blurted out drunkenly, his head spinning a bit. He slumped back into the couch. He took a deep breath. Adrian moved closer, sitting sideways and facing him.

“...You lied to me. _Why?_ ” 

Trevor made a frustrated noise and turned to face him. “What?”

“You’re not straight,” Adrian challenged, frustrated with the brick wall Trevor was putting up by not saying anything. Trevor sighed in discomfort, and then he dropped his head back against the couch, looking at the ceiling. Then he closed his eyes in resignation.

“No. I’m not straight. I’m bisexual... just like you,” he admitted. Adrian nodded, pursing his lips.

“I thought so. You’re not a very good liar. But, you should have told me the truth.”

“Uh, I’m sorry. Jesus, I’m a shitty person- I didn’t want to lie to you, I just-” he looked pained and almost panicked when he met Adrian’s gaze, “I was worried about my team. My scholarship. My roommate. I didn't know you that well. I thought you would blab to someone and it would be horrible for me.” Adrian looked at him for a moment.

“Trevor, I won’t tell anyone you’re bi, if that’s what you want. I’m not a mean person. Or a blabbermouth. I’m not going to out you to the whole school. Promise.”

“What about Sypha?” He gasped. Sypha was bound to find out. Adrian put his hand on Trevor’s shoulder.

“You have to tell her, Trevor. It’s time. She won’t tell other people. She’s your best friend and she’s a good person.”

“ _Oh, God._ ”

“But you kissed me. I’m not going to keep that a secret from her. It’s not right.”

“Fuck.” He sounded very worried, looking down at the whiskey on the table as if that would save him from having to tell Sypha about his sexuality.

“It’ll be okay. We’ll get through it.”

“What if she hates me?” Trevor worried aloud.

“What? Why would she hate you?” Adrian didn’t follow. 

“I kissed her boyfriend! I’m an asshole.” He berated himself. 

“You didn’t know when you did it. And you stopped when I asked,” he looked away, “And I kissed you back! I’m not blameless here. Listen, it’ll be okay.” Trevor shook his head.

“But, Adrian- What if I just ruined everything? What if she doesn’t want to be friends with me after this? What if she breaks up with you or something?”

“I don’t think she’ll do that. She’s more understanding than that.”

“I - _argh,_ ” Trevor groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, “ _Why do I do this?_ ”

“Kiss other guys?”

“Ruin everything. I can’t ruin this. Please, Adrian, can we please just write this off as a drunken mistake and not tell her? I can't - I can’t lose her. Please, please,” he started to cry, tears pricking in his eyes and Adrian brought him in for a hug, holding him tightly. Trevor didn’t really give it back so Adrian let him go.

“Trevor, you’ll be okay. Calm down. I don’t think she will react that way. And if she does, if she breaks up with me, then we’ll just-” he stroked his arm, “we’ll deal with it… I won’t leave you.” 

“What?” Trevor’s eyes went wide. Adrian blushed a little, working up the courage to ask him the question he wanted to.

“Trevor, you like me, right?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His eyes said it all. They were glassy with tears, emotive, and passionate. He bit his lip to keep himself from answering that question. Adrian ran his hand through Trevor’s dark hair, sighing.

“Everything will be okay. Don’t make a bigger deal out of this than you need to.” He rubbed Trevor’s back and shoulder.

“Okay.”

“You’re drunk. Let’s just get ready for bed and go to sleep. Everything will be better in the morning.”

“Alright,” Trevor grunted, getting up with a bit of a wobble. Adrian helped balance him, but Trevor sort of pushed his hands away. 

“I’m fine. I’m going to bed.”

* * *

Trevor awoke to a blinding amount of light pouring in through the huge, uncovered windows. He groaned and flipped around, slamming his head into the pillows and trying to block away the light. It was too much too early in the morning. He drifted in and out of sleep for an hour before the sound of traffic woke him up for good. Incessant honking, sirens, and ship horns blared intermittently in a discordant barrage of sounds. Trevor shifted, pulling himself up in bed.

 _Where the hell am I?_ He looked around the large, sleek, modern bedroom with confusion. The city skyline, blinding in the morning sun, startled him. He moved around in the all-white, luxurious King bed, shifting to get up. He saw his backpack on the floor and remembered. _Oh, Adrian’s concert. Jesus._ Suddenly, he remembered flashes of the night before. Pressing Adrian up against the brick wall, kissing him, grinding against him. Sucking on his neck, moaning. Then Adrian telling him to stop. _Fuck! Oh no, no. No, no, no, no, no. I’m an idiot. Oh, this is bad._ Trevor cringed as he remembered the night before. Groaning lightly both at his headache and himself, he went into the luxurious marble en-suite bathroom and hopped in the shower. But he was far too distracted by his own foolish actions to care about the beautiful walk in marble shower or rainfall features. He ran through what he could remember of the night before in his mind and cringed. _I can’t believe I did that. Argh. Arghh! I hate myself. Why do I do this crap? I ruin everything… I ruin everything._

After changing and getting himself presentable, he walked into the kitchen area, where Adrian already was. He wore a white long sleeved cashmere sweater and black jeans. His long hair was up in a messy, curly topknot. For once, he fit into the surroundings because they were staying in a luxurious modern duplex apartment with views fit for a prince. The Nespresso machine buzzed and whirred as it made a latte, the only noise above the faint honking sounds from below.

“Morning,” Trevor muttered. The blonde looked back at him and blinked, smiling a little. 

“Morning,” he turned back to the machine, fixing his latte, “Want some coffee?”

“I should probably have some water first,” he grumbled, noticing his impending headache. Adrian gave him a glass and he sat at a barstool.

“Thanks.”

“Are you okay?” Adrian asked slowly, cautiously, moving to the counter and sipping his coffee. Trevor frowned and drank a good amount of water, saying nothing for a while.

“I- I feel so shitty. About last night. _I’m sorry_ , man. I dunno want to say. I was being- stupid and impulsive. I feel so embarrassed.”

“Trevor, it’s okay. Really. I just,” he looked down at the counter and then back up at, “I hope you’re okay. You seemed… I don’t know. Confused or angry or something last night. I’m not sure how to say it. Like you were struggling with something.”

“I came on to you and you’re worried about my feelings? Wow,” he sighed.

“Yes. I care about you, Trevor. I mean, I wish you would just talk to me about whatever it is. I know you have trouble trusting people. But I tell you things. I told you how I felt about my dad last night. And other things.”

“Yeah... I’m okay, I guess. Just, embarrassed is all. I wish I didn’t do stupid things like that.”

“I’m not angry. I was-” Adrian blushed, getting quieter, “I enjoyed it. Obviously.” Trevor startled at that, blinking and looking at him in slight shock. He hadn’t expected him to say it out loud. But then he shook his head.

“But, we can’t do that again. I have Sypha- I mean, I’m dating her, so we can’t be together like that. We shouldn’t. I don’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“Of course not. Please, just- forgive me.”

“I am! No worries. Let’s just move on. Go get some breakfast? Or, are you too hungover for that?” Trevor shook his head, finishing the water. 

“Uh, give me a few minutes. I don’t get strong hangovers, usually. Just headaches. No nausea.”

“Okay. Have some fruit.” When Trevor determined that it was safe, and he could hold food down, they decided to go to brunch. After getting dressed and going down to the street Adrian put on some thick Gucci sunglasses and hailed a cab. 

“Good morning,” the taxi cab driver smiled as they got in.

“Morning. Greenwich and Gansevoort Street, please.” The taxi merged into traffic and Adrian checked his phone.

[Sypha]

Sypha (8:23 am) Morning! <3 How was your concert? Did you end up having a party or no?

Adrian (9:55 am) Good morning. The concert was fine. I picked up a CD for you. No, I didn’t have a party. It was just Trevor and me, but I’ll tell you about it later, ok?

Sypha (9:55 am) Okay

Trevor squinted, even in his sunglasses, and tried to make sense of his surroundings. He was in between drunk and hungover. But Trevor had had it much worse in the past. The city was alive and awake, people moving around, shopping, walking their dogs.

“Where are we going?” He mumbled, looking back over to Adrian.

“Pastis. For brunch. It’s in the meatpacking district- I think you’ll like it.”

“Okay,” he grumbled, closing his eyes. It was too bright. Soon they were across town and seated for brunch. Trevor felt, in a word, awkward. _I don’t even know what to say to him anymore. How am I supposed to talk to him? He knows I like him, he knows I want to sleep with him. Fuck. What am I supposed to say to get past that? He’s dating Sypha. I don’t know what I should say._ So he sat at his seat in silence, looking around the charming French bistro as Adrian read the menu. It was pretty loud in the cafe, and Trevor was glad, at least because it made the silence less awkward, even though it didn’t help his headache. He drank some water to do something and a waiter approached them. 

Adrian ordered Eggs Benedict, a Gruyere Omelet, bacon, avocado, and escargot. Then he ordered fresh squeezed orange juice and something called the ‘Hangover Cure’ for Trevor. When the waiter left, Trevor gave him a strange look.

“What’s the ‘Hangover Cure’?”

“It’s a smoothie made of spinach, green apple, lemon, ginger, and coconut water. It helps you feel better, trust me. And it’s really good for you.” He nodded, encouraging Trevor to try it. Trevor grimaced a little at the thought of that drink.

“And what is escargot, really?” He squinted in the light, scowling and tilting his head. Adrian chuckled a little, taking out some lip balm.

“I think it’s good,” he shrugged, putting on some chapstick, “It’s actually snails.” Trevor almost spat out his water. He gave Adrian a look.

“I’m sorry, did you just order _snails and spinach juice?_ For _breakfast?_ ” He laughed in disbelief, “I thought rich people would eat, I don’t know, something delicious? Not _snails_...” He shook his head, eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

“Just try the green juice," Adrian chuckled, "It’s good for you. I’ll eat the escargot.”

They got through brunch, albeit awkwardly, with a series of long pauses that Adrian tried to overcome by asking Trevor questions. But Trevor felt uncomfortable throughout, pretty much unable to look him in the eye. He was embarrassed by his actions the night before. When they were waiting for the check Adrian put his pretty Burberry crossbody bag up on the table and took out his wallet, looking for a card. He flagged down their waiter and handed over a black mental credit card that looked very unusual. The waiter took it away and Adrian looked back to Trevor, then down at the table, not knowing what to say. Trevor wasn’t making it any easier. He stared at the bag on the table.

“...is that a - woman’s purse?” He mumbled, which was probably worse than saying nothing. Adrian blinked and looked down at the bag.

“I guess. I like it, though. And it’s convenient.” Trevor nodded, fumbling completely in the conversation department. They both had to wait for the check, so he wasn’t going anywhere.

“What… what do you put in it?” It was painfully awkward, and Adrian started to laugh.

“You want me to do a ‘What’s in my bag’ for you?”

“Ah- sure.” Adrian made a face, but he obliged.

“Let’s see,” he opened it up and started showing Trevor the contents, “a YSL wallet, La Mer hand cream, Chanel lip balm, gloves, cigarettes, lighter, and… sunglasses.” Adrian held up the gloves and Trevor grabbed them, feeling the fine leather in his hands.

“Wow. Fancy… Nice leather. Are they Gucci?” He asked after seeing the little ‘GG’ emblem. Adrian nodded. Trevor tried to put one on, but Adrian’s hands were too small. It didn’t fit.

“Uh, I need new gloves. I should really buy some. How much were these?” He whispered. Adrian made a face of ignorance. 

“Honestly, Trevor, I don’t know. I don’t look at the prices of anything, really,” he shrugged a bit sheepishly, like it was a minor flaw of character, and Trevor laughed out loud. “Not if I’m buying it in person. If I’m shopping online sometimes I notice the price, but…” Adrian had never worried about money even once in his life. Trevor laughed for a while, handing the gloves back. He worried about money all the time, constantly. And Adrian didn’t even look at prices.

“I’m curious. I’ll look it up.”

“Really, Trevor?” He rolled his gold eyes as the other man went on his phone and looked up the price. Trevor sneered when he found the price.

“ _Six hundred thirty dollars._ I swear that’s more than I’ve spent on clothing _my whole life_. Not joking.” He found it funny, but Adrian didn’t. A serious look came across his face, and he sat there in silence until the waiter came back with his card and the receipt. Trevor snagged the bill quickly, not wanting Adrian to pay it all.

“ _Jesus, that’s a lot._ Fuck- why’d you take us to this place?” he muttered, reaching into his coat pocket for some cash. Adrian shook his head, stopping him.

“No, no, no. Come on. You’re saving to go see Sypha, right? Don’t waste your money on, how’d you put it? Snails and spinach juice. I’ve got it.” He signed and added a generous tip. Trevor felt guilty having him pay for everything, regardless. 

“You really don’t have to do that.” He crossed his muscular arms.

“Shh,” Adrian silenced him, closing the bill holder and taking his card back.

“Let me see your card.” Trevor grabbed it out of his hand quickly, earning a glare from Adrian. Trevor turned the strange card over in his hand, feeling the heavy weight of it.

“What the hell is this thing?” It was thick metal.

“You really don’t have manners,” the blonde lamented, sighing and brushing golden hair off his shoulder dramatically. Trevor scowled.

“What? Oh, for grabbing it?” He acted confused. Adrian gave him a scolding look.

“You make fun of my bag, you get after me for what I order for us, and for choosing the restaurant, you eat the bacon with your hands, and then you don’t thank me for the meal. And now you’ve taken my credit card.” He gave Trevor a look like a scolding mother. Trevor’s expression changed to guilty and he handed back the card sheepishly.

“Sorry, Adrian. Thanks for the meal. It was good.”

Adrian nodded and offered a small smile. “That’s much better. You’re welcome,” he put the card in his wallet, “It’s an American Express Centurion Card- also called the ‘Black Card’ sometimes. It’s an invitation-only credit card. My dad likes this kind of stuff. Kinda ridiculous. But, it has great benefits. I’ll say that for it.”

“Like what?”

“Elite status at pretty much all the nice hotels, a personalized shopping experience, Saks Fifth Avenue credit, Delta Executive Platinum status, access to private airport lounges and bars, 24/7 concierge services, Equinox gym membership, CLEAR air travel membership, etc,” he rolled off and Trevor’s eyes went wide. 

“Holy shit. That’s wild. An invitation-only credit card. Snazzy. How much are the fees?”

“A lot. I don’t know, like ten thousand a year or something? I’m not paying for it. My dad got it for me. Come on, let’s go.” He put on his jacket and his purse before walking out of the restaurant with Trevor following behind.

“Where are we going?” Trevor was grateful that the sky had clouded up. It was cool and comfortable outside, although chilly. He buttoned up his gifted Michael Kors coat.

“I want to take a look in here.” Adrian pointed to the large Hermes store next to the restaurant, “Then we can go wherever you want.” Trevor felt strange as they entered the nice place. Hermes was too classy a store for him, and so he just looked around uncomfortably, trying not to bump into the nice displays of scarves and purses. Adrian walked in easily, as comfortable as he could be in any place, sliding his sunglasses up on top of his head, gliding around the store in his sleek black ankle boots. Trevor just watched him shop, chat with the store clerks, and filter through the sparse racks. He pulled a couple of pieces and selected some shoes, telling the clerk the sizes he wanted and eventually coming back to Trevor, who was lounging in a big orange chair. 

“Almost done. I’m going to go pay. Think about where you want to go, okay? Wherever you want.” He was trying to be nice, despite everything and Trevor made himself smile. _Turns out I’m the shitty one, and he’s a good guy. What a twist._

After shopping in Hermes they went across the street to Theory and Trevor watched Adrian pick out a bunch of different items, telling the clerks what he wanted and having them box things up for him. Trevor was content to just watch him, enjoying looking at him move around the fancy stores, elegant and beautiful. Adrian looked and smelled lovely in his white cashmere sweater and luxurious fur coat, complete with big black sunglasses on top of his head. He had let his hair down, and it flowed down his back and over his shoulders. Trevor remembered what it was like to touch it, run his hands through it. _I wish I could touch him again… but I can’t. I can’t. Fuck. He has a girlfriend. Sypha. Shit. This is all- so messed up. I should never have done that._ He wondered if Adrian was busying himself with buying so much just so he could do something other than talk. Eventually he went on his phone because Adrian was buying a lot.

“Okay, let’s go,” he spoke up, and Trevor looked up from his phone to see Adrian carrying several large shopping bags. “I want to drop these at the Airbnb, then we can go do something you want.” They exited the store and waited on the clean cobblestone sidewalk for the Uber Black to show up. Trevor looked around and another awkward silence passed. He was getting a headache and feeling a sense of impending doom.

“Adrian, I don’t know what to do here. We can just go back to Rochester.”

“What?” He looked confused and surprised, “You said you never come to the city and now we’re here. We can do whatever you want. Go to an art museum, go eat somewhere cool, do some sightseeing. Have you ever been to the Empire State building?” Trevor pursed his lips.

“I said I never come to the city, meaning nowadays… I’ve been here before, Adrian. I lived here for a while.” That took Adrian by surprise. Trevor had never mentioned that before.

“What? Where?”

“On the streets,” he smirked oddly, like it was a sick joke, “and I slept in the subway.”

“...How old were you?” His voice had dropped to a concerned whisper. There was a reason Trevor felt strange going to concerts and shopping at designer boutiques.

“I was- eleven. Maybe twelve? Who remembers that sort of thing?” He laughed humorlessly. Adrian’s face fell even more, and he was truly realizing the gravity of the situation Trevor had been in. Foster homes were worse enough, but the streets? Brutal.

“I’m surprised to find I had more of a childhood than you did.” Adrian’s voice had dropped to his usual, gloomy monotone. 

“And your dad’s _fucking Dracula,_ ” Trevor droned comically, making Adrian laugh a bit.

“Yeah. But I still had parents, I had homes and a warm bed to sleep on. I had nannies and tutors and fencing coaches. I- I can’t imagine surviving alone out here… and as a child. That’s terrible, Trevor. I’m sorry you had to live like that.” He gave him a sympathetic look and Trevor still held his strange expression, like life was all just one, long, sick joke. He was walking with Dracula’s billionaire son down the same streets he used to wander as a child.

“...you know I’m still technically homeless, right? I have temporary housing in the dorms, but I don’t have a permanent residence anywhere. I had to get my passport a few years back, so I could go over the border to Canada and play in hockey games there. I went to the DMV, or whatever, to get a passport, and -it was so weird. I didn’t look homeless anymore, but I had to say to the lady, in front of everyone, ‘ _No,_ I don’t have a permanent residence’ and deal with the looks they all gave me. They had to call the university and speak with my counselor, to get special permissions and all that shit.”

“ _Oh my God!_ ” The idea startled Adrian, “What about your old foster home?”

“Well, I was in several. You mean the last one?” 

“Yeah.”

“Never setting foot in there again. Ever. Not a home. Not even close. Those pieces of shit didn’t even remember my full name, or anything about me.” Adrian set down the bags and impulsively stepped over to give Trevor a hug. _Wha-?_ He was uncomfortable at first with the other man giving him a hug in public, but then he softened into it. He smelled and felt wonderful, and his smooth, slippery hair felt wonderful against Trevor’s cheek. Trevor pulled away from him and the car arrived just in time. On the drive back to the Airbnb Adrian reached over to touch Trevor’s muscled arm, giving him an affectionate squeeze. Trevor blinked, looking around the inside of the Mercedes SUV, trying not to think about everything. But he did. And when he looked back to Adrian they shared a very serious moment. When they were back in the rental apartment, Adrian set the bags down and sighed deeply.

“Trevor, I want to say something.” _Oh, no._

“What?” He sounded worried. Adrian looked down at the pretty hardwood before finally looking up and meeting Trevor’s worried blue eyes. He walked forward.

“No matter what happens, you don’t need to worry about those things anymore. You know that, right?” Trevor scowled, tilting his head in confusion. _Those things?_

“What do you mean?”

“Being alone. Being homeless. I don’t want you to think you have to worry about those things anymore,” he whispered softly, sincerely, peering at him from under long blonde eyelashes. His golden eyes were practically glowing, Trevor thought.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” he replied, shaking his head.

“Life - life isn’t fair. And you were dealt a shit hand. That’s just the reality of this. We all get dealt shitty hands once in a while. What happened to you was really bad. I have problems of my own. But one problem I don’t have, and I’ll never have, is money. I have all the money in the world. I have more money than I could ever spend, Trevor. So please, I know it’s hard, I know it hurts your pride, and you have a lot, but please know that I’ll take care of you if something happens. Even if something bad doesn’t happen, I’m still here for you. And you can keep it a secret, that’s fine, but just know that- I’m here for you. If you need something, like dental work, or an apartment or something, just ask. There’s nothing I couldn't pay for. Nothing. And I won’t tell anybody.” Trevor looked down at his feet, ashamed of his own poverty. _I hate being broke._

“But I always get by. I appreciate you paying for the surgery, and I’ll take that, but I don’t need anything else okay? When I graduate, I’ll get a job somewhere. I can take care of myself. I don’t need your money.” Adrian breathed deeply, then he nodded.

“Okay.”

“ _Okay? That’s it?_ ” He seemed surprised, “I thought you would push more than that.”

“Should I? It’s fine. You have your pride. Whatever, it’s your life. I’ll just give you things when I want to, then, and you can choose to accept them or not. Your choice.” Trevor tried to follow what he meant.

“You mean like gifts?” Adrian moved things around while they spoke.

“Yeah. I buy everybody gifts. Sypha, my mom, my dad, my driver. My hairstylist. I like buying people gifts. What else am I supposed to do with all this money? Might as well make people happy,” he shrugged, and Trevor sat down at the couch. He narrowed his eyes.

“I suppose so.” 

“Can we move past this, Trevor? Please?”

“What?”

“ _The kiss._ You’ve been weird all morning because of it. So what? We kissed, whatever. Let’s just move on and be friends again. Isn’t that what you want?” He was really making an effort and Trevor nodded.

“Yeah. Sorry about- everything. I’m shitty, I know that. I’m working on it.” Adrian sighed and sat next to him, putting his hand on his shoulder.

“You’re not shitty. _You’re great_ , Trevor. Just -rough around the edges is all,” Adrian smiled sweetly at him. Trevor smiled back a little. He watched from his seat as the tall blonde walked around and set all the bags down on the coffee table. Two huge Hermes bags and three from Theory.

“Wow, that’s a lot of stuff! What did you get? New outfits? I saw you looking at shoes.”

He peeked inside a yellow Hermes bag.

“Well, yeah, but they’re not for me.” He shrugged casually, looking over at Trevor.

“Who are they for?”

“They’re for you.”

“What?!” Trevor gasped. Adrian smiled a little, coming closer.

“I found some stuff that I think you’d like. Nothing too flashy or crazy, just nice, simplistic, modern stuff. Oh, and I got a little bit of jewelry for myself. And a sweater. But the rest is for you.”

“I can’t believe you did this. Adrian! No, I can’t take this stuff, come on.”

“Why not? They’re gifts. A thank you for being the only person who came to my concert and stayed with me. I’m grateful, even if you’re not.”

“Wha- What did you get me?” He picked up a bag. Adrian chuckled, smiling at his reaction.

“Open them.” Trevor did. In the Hermes bag there were a few outfits, carefully packaged. A burgundy red running set that was very stylish, with sleeves to the elbows and shorts to the knee. Another shirt that was unique and modern with a dark teal color. Navy swim trunks. Three pairs of sneakers, one in a skater style, one navy pair, and one modern pair in black. They were all beautiful, well made, brand new. They even smelled expensive. Trevor felt strange even holding them in his hands. He wore shoes either from the clearance section of Target or Walmart. Sometimes a secondhand store. Usually less than fifteen or twenty bucks. Often stolen. Then he spotted another small box at the bottom of the bag. He opened it and saw a pair of perfect gloves in black leather, carefully wrapped and packaged. He slid them on. They fit perfectly.

“You’re not saying anything,” Adrian sounded worried, looking at his friend’s blank, heavy expression. Trevor blinked rapidly and then he sighed.

“I- _how much did you pay for this?_ Isn’t this a fancy designer store?”

“I didn’t look. It doesn’t matter, Trevor, it just matters if you like them. Money’s no object. For me, at least.” Trevor laughed incredulously and picked up another pair.

“Do you like them? I got these new Boomerang sneakers, I thought you’d look good in them. They’re the skater style, you know? With the white piping on the black?” He searched Trevor’s handsome face. Eventually, Trevor nodded. He looked shameful and appreciative at the same time.

“Uh, yeah. I mean- they’re beautiful. Really. I’m just shocked.”

“Don’t be! Open the rest of the stuff. Here, I’ll take my jewelry out.”

Trevor opened the bags from Theory. There was a ton of clothing. V-neck merino wool sweaters, T-shirts in the softest fabrics Trevor had ever touched, a few button-downs, a modern black cotton shirt with big pockets. Two cashmere hoodies in navy and grey, dark blue jeans, black jeans, and some soft cotton pants in different colors. Dark cyan, brick-brown, and khaki. Everything was perfect, soft, new. Trevor was in awe. He had never had such nice things before. And even more than that, Trevor liked all of it. Everything Adrian gave him. It was all what he would want: no bright colors, no crazy prints. Just clean lines and high quality, soft fabrics. Navy and black. White and army green. No frills, no fanciness. 

“Do you like everything?” Adrian looked around, watching him look at all the stuff laid out. Finally, Trevor nodded, laughing in surprise and smiling.

“I had no idea you were- this is all,” he almost got choked up, “This is… _awesome_. You - you really got me too much, but I like all of this. And - how did you know my sizes?” He could hardly believe it.

“Sypha told me.” Trevor laughed and then he looked at the pile, unable to even contemplate the price. It was probably in the tens of thousands. But Adrian had dropped it without a blink. It was one thing knowing how much money Adrian had available to him. It was another thing actually witnessing it and being on the receiving end. 

“I can’t keep all of this,” he decided bluntly. Adrian sighed lightly, rolling his pretty eyes a bit.

“Well, I suppose if you don’t want something you can return it later, but I hope you keep it. I think you’ll great in them. Especially the v-neck and the brick-colored pants. Wear those together, it’ll look so good. And here-” he took out the clothes to show him, “try wearing the black pocket shirt over the black tee shirt, with the brick-colored pants and the Hermes skater shoes. It’ll look so nice on you. Why don’t you try it on now, and wear it back?” He urged Trevor to change into them. He did, coming back out fully styled by Adrian and looking fantastic. Adrian smiled widely, nodding in appreciation.

“You look amazing. I knew it would be good on you. Come on, let’s get packed up and go. I booked us a flight. It leaves in a few hours. We can eat at the airport, in the SkyLounge.”

Trevor walked up behind Adrian and touched his shoulder, getting him to turn around.

“...Adrian, I- I just want to say thank you. _Seriously._ I mean, you didn’t have to do this.”

“ _And you didn’t have to come all the way to Manhattan for my concert, but you did._ ”

He smiled, and Trevor smiled back, and that was the end of that.

* * *

**A/N: Please review! It makes my whole day and feels my soul. Thanks for reading, all. XOXO.**

* * *

Adrian’s Outfit For Brunch: 

White Cashmere Sweater [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/z-zegna-turtleneck-cashmere-jumper-item-15632890.aspx?storeid=10122 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/z-zegna-turtleneck-cashmere-jumper-item-15632890.aspx?storeid=10122)

Jeans 

[ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/balmain-mid-rise-slim-leg-jeans-item-15283399.aspx?storeid=9359 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/balmain-mid-rise-slim-leg-jeans-item-15283399.aspx?storeid=9359)

YSL Coat [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/saint-laurent-shearling-duffle-coat-item-14662544.aspx?storeid=12720 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/saint-laurent-shearling-duffle-coat-item-14662544.aspx?storeid=12720)

YSL Boots [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/saint-laurent-wyatt-40mm-belted-ankle-boots-item-15510777.aspx?storeid=9359 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/saint-laurent-wyatt-40mm-belted-ankle-boots-item-15510777.aspx?storeid=9359)

Watch [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/rolex-2019-unworn-chronograph-daytona-40mm-item-15568648.aspx?storeid=12996 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/rolex-2019-unworn-chronograph-daytona-40mm-item-15568648.aspx?storeid=12996)

* * *

**Black Card:** [ https://www.forbes.com/advisor/credit-cards/reviews/centurion-from-american-express/ ](https://www.forbes.com/advisor/credit-cards/reviews/centurion-from-american-express/)

* * *

Gifts for Trevor: Shirt[ https://www.theory.com/sylvain-nd/J0794505.html?cgid=mens-new&dwvar_J0794505_color=B7H#pmid=GlobalSaleExcludePromotion&srule=PLP+Sort-Price+DESC&start=1&sz=12 ](https://www.theory.com/sylvain-nd/J0794505.html?cgid=mens-new&dwvar_J0794505_color=B7H#pmid=GlobalSaleExcludePromotion&srule=PLP+Sort-Price+DESC&start=1&sz=12)

Black Pocket Shirt [ https://www.theory.com/weldon-pnt-2pa/K0674506.html?cgid=mens-shirts&dwvar_K0674506_color=001#start=1 ](https://www.theory.com/weldon-pnt-2pa/K0674506.html?cgid=mens-shirts&dwvar_K0674506_color=001#start=1)

Pants[ https://www.theory.com/tech-raffi/I0974229.html?cgid=PDP-WIW&dwvar_I0974229_color=B7H ](https://www.theory.com/tech-raffi/I0974229.html?cgid=PDP-WIW&dwvar_I0974229_color=B7H)

Black Tee [ https://www.theory.com/precise-tee/J0194523.html?cgid=PDP-WIW&dwvar_J0194523_color=001 ](https://www.theory.com/precise-tee/J0194523.html?cgid=PDP-WIW&dwvar_J0194523_color=001)

Sweater [ https://www.theory.com/vneck-po/J0781718.html?cgid=mens-sweaters&dwvar_J0781718_color=001#start=1 ](https://www.theory.com/vneck-po/J0781718.html?cgid=mens-sweaters&dwvar_J0781718_color=001#start=1)

Blue Sweater [ https://www.theory.com/gaskell-nl/K0799521.html?cgid=mens-tshirts&dwvar_K0799521_color=GEK#pmid=GlobalSaleExcludePromotion&srule=PLP+Sort-Price+DESC&start=1&sz=12 ](https://www.theory.com/gaskell-nl/K0799521.html?cgid=mens-tshirts&dwvar_K0799521_color=GEK#pmid=GlobalSaleExcludePromotion&srule=PLP+Sort-Price+DESC&start=1&sz=12)

Hoodie [ https://www.theory.com/lievos-hood/I0188711.html?cgid=Search%20Results&dwvar_I0188711_color=YUF#q=hoodie&lang=default&start=1 ](https://www.theory.com/lievos-hood/I0188711.html?cgid=Search%20Results&dwvar_I0188711_color=YUF#q=hoodie&lang=default&start=1)

Jeans [ https://www.theory.com/kane-straight-fit/G042550X.html?cgid=PDP-YMAL&dwvar_G042550X_color=W4G ](https://www.theory.com/kane-straight-fit/G042550X.html?cgid=PDP-YMAL&dwvar_G042550X_color=W4G)

* * *

Hermes Men

Hermes Gloves (Trevor) [ https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/nervure-gloves-H172042Gv02080/ ](https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/nervure-gloves-H172042Gv02080/)

Blue Tennis Shoes [ https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/stadium-sneaker-H192527ZHI3420/ ](https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/stadium-sneaker-H192527ZHI3420/)

Black Skater Shoes [ https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/boomerang-sneaker-H202950ZH02410/ ](https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/boomerang-sneaker-H202950ZH02410/)

Stadium Sneaker [ https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/stadium-sneaker-H182361ZH02400/ ](https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/stadium-sneaker-H182361ZH02400/)

Running Shirt [ https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/bicolor-jogging-t-shirt-H037500HA54LA/ ](https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/bicolor-jogging-t-shirt-H037500HA54LA/)

Running Shorts [ https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/bicolor-ribbed-jogging-shorts-H037515HA603XL/ ](https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/bicolor-ribbed-jogging-shorts-H037515HA603XL/)

Swim Trunks [ https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/swim-trunks-H038050HB60SM/ ](https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/swim-trunks-H038050HB60SM/)

Fancy T-shirt [ https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/t-shirt-with-mesh-detail-H037260HA603XL/ ](https://www.hermes.com/us/en/product/t-shirt-with-mesh-detail-H037260HA603XL/)

Adrian’s bag: [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/women/burberry-tb-check-crossbody-bag-item-14586722.aspx?storeid=10806 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/women/burberry-tb-check-crossbody-bag-item-14586722.aspx?storeid=10806)

What’s in Adrian’s bag: 

Gucci Gloves [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/gucci-leather-gloves-with-double-g-item-13434524.aspx?storeid=9799 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/gucci-leather-gloves-with-double-g-item-13434524.aspx?storeid=9799)

YSL wallet[ https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/saint-laurent-crocodile-embossed-leather-wallet/product/0400011831202?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306646893&R=190617500441&P_name=Saint+Laurent&N=306646893&bmUID=nf_kK0I ](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/saint-laurent-crocodile-embossed-leather-wallet/product/0400011831202?FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306646893&R=190617500441&P_name=Saint+Laurent&N=306646893&bmUID=nf_kK0I)

La Mer Handcream: [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/women/burberry-tb-check-crossbody-bag-item-14586722.aspx?storeid=10806 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/women/burberry-tb-check-crossbody-bag-item-14586722.aspx?storeid=10806)

Chanel Lip Balm: [ https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/chanel-b-rouge-coco-baume-b-br-hydrating-conditioning-lip-balm/product/0425257146996?R=3145891719000&P_name=CHANEL&Ntt=lip+balm&N=0&FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306614008 ](https://www.saksfifthavenue.com/chanel-b-rouge-coco-baume-b-br-hydrating-conditioning-lip-balm/product/0425257146996?R=3145891719000&P_name=CHANEL&Ntt=lip+balm&N=0&FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=2534374306614008)


	18. Making Amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor tries to amends with Sypha. And Dracula tries to make amends with Adrian.

To understand what Adrian is going through, and why he acts and feels the way he does, here is an excerpt of an article on sons of narcissistic fathers. There are different levels of narcissistic abuse (mild, moderate, extreme). Adrian goes through moderate narcissistic abuse, not extreme. But it’s important to understand this psychology for my book if you are unfamiliar with narcissistic abuse ( a type of emotional abuse ):

> "Sons of narcissistic fathers are driven by lack of confidence. Raised by a self-centered, competitive, arrogant father, they feel like **they can never measure up** or are enough to garner their father’s approval. 
> 
> **Their father may be absent or critical and controlling. He may belittle and shame his son’s mistakes, vulnerability, failures, or limitations, yet brag about him to his friends.** A narcissistic father may ruthlessly bully or compete with his son _in games_ , even when the boy is a less-capable child. Similarly, he _may be jealous of his wife’s attention to the boy_ , compete with him, and _flirt with his girlfriends_ or wife.
> 
> Lack of empathy is typical of narcissists. **Many narcissistic fathers are authoritarian and rigid about how things should be done, the correctness of their opinions, and getting their way** , portrayed by Robert Duval in the movie The Great Santini. (Pratt & Carlino, 1979)
> 
> **When narcissistic fathers get involved with their son’s activities, some take over, micro-manage, or are hypercritical.** Frequently, **narcissists are perfectionists, so nothing their child does — or who he or she is — is good enough.** Seeing their child as an extension of themselves, _they become overly involved and control their son’s lives, education, and dreams_ , as did the father in the movie, Shine (Scott & Hicks, 1996).
> 
> Alternatively, fathers may be **physically or emotionally remote and wrapped up in their work** , addiction, or own pleasures. They act like giving attention to their son’s needs, feelings, and interests **or showing up at their games and activities is unimportant and a burden** , even though they might provide for him on a material level. In either case, such fathers are **emotionally unavailable.** Because they deny and disdain their own dependency and vulnerability, they often shame and belittle any sign of distress or weakness in their sons. (Although this can change in different moods, and at times they may show remorse or empathy)
> 
> Sons who do not become narcissists themselves suffer from **codependency.** The message they’ve received is that **they’re somehow inadequate, a burden, and that they don’t measure up** to their father’s expectations–basically, that they’re unworthy of love–despite the fact that they may feel loved by their mothers; because children need to feel that both parents accept and love them for who they are. They’re deeply moved to receive an apology or crumbs of love that other people take for granted, as Kafka describes when he was sick. He was overwhelmed with tears when his father merely looked into his room and waved at him. All Kafka wanted was, “a little encouragement, a little friendliness, a little keeping open of my road, instead of which you blocked it for me, though of course with the good intention of making me go another road.”
> 
> Growing up, abused children frequently learn to be **self-sufficient, guarded, and devalue their dependency and emotional needs, leading to intimacy problems**. They may marry a narcissist, abuser, someone cold, critical, or emotionally unavailable.
> 
> Sons may be **driven to achieve, in an attempt to get validation and the approval of their father, but their success feels hollow.** _It’s never enough — even for themselves._ They need to learn to be assertive and to set boundaries in healthy ways not modeled and unthinkable growing up. They also need to value themselves and raise their self-esteem and confidence. Many have suffered from lifelong **inner loneliness due to growing up in a family in constant turmoil and/or lacking emotional closeness.**
> 
> _However, healing their shame and learning to comfort, accept, and love themselves and receive love are possible."_
> 
> (Darlene Lancer 2016, 2017, Popova, M. (2015, March 3) “Kafka’s Remarkable Letter to His Abusive and Narcissistic Father.”)
> 
> * _So, as I’ve written, Adrian’s been struggling with this narcissistic abuse from his father for a long time. At this point in the story he is trying to regain control of himself (instead of having his father control him). I personally grew up with a narcissistic father so I know what the process is like. My father is sometimes absent for months and then tries to be extremely controlling and micromanages my life. It’s very frustrating. You have to learn how to deal with it. It takes time to figure out how to stand your ground._
> 
> _In late teenage years, a child of a narcissist may start to see that what they are doing is not working. All the successes and prizes are not bringing any joy, even though the child thought they would. So, they may begin to rebel/take action against the parent in retribution. This can happen in many different ways. (I totally cut off contact with my own father at one point.) Adrian can’t manage that in his situation because of how powerful his father is, but he will try to gain control of himself. And it is like a fight for control. There is a lot of manipulation and confusion in these relationships. The child may go back and forth between submission and fighting for control of themselves. They may feel that it’s hopeless and give up, or accept apologies or admissions of love from the parent and fall back into submission. Needless to say, it’s a very difficult process. And complicated. Dealing with a narcissistic parent is shitty! But, anyway, here we go..._

**CHAPTER 18**

* * *

[Adrian]

Adrian (1:43 pm) Trevor, you need to tell her, okay? It’s been a week. Please don’t put this off any longer.

Adrian (1:44 pm) Why don’t you come over? Sypha’s here. It’ll be okay, let’s get through this. Everything will be alright.

Trevor (2:01 pm) Okay. I’m coming 

* * *

“Hey,” Trevor greeted awkwardly, per usual. Adrian smiled a little and opened the door wider for him. He was wearing a white cashmere hoodie and his long hair was half up. Two small gold earrings hung from his ears. 

“Hello, Trevor.” They walked to the living area. Sypha was sitting at the comfy chair, her small feet up on the coffee table. There was a glass of white wine in her hand. She smiled widely at Trevor as he walked into the apartment. She hadn’t seen him for a while outside of class. 

“Hey Trevor, how are you? I’ve missed you.” Sypha sat up properly, putting her wine glass on the table. She was wearing a white sweatshirt with a floral pink skirt that somehow looked good together on her. It was pleasantly sunny outside and the snow had melted away. The temperatures were climbing steadily by the day. Trevor was only in jeans, a t-shirt, and a hoodie. The clothes were given to him by Adrian. Needless to say, he never returned any of them because he finally had clothes to wear and no longer needed to wear his holey ‘Thrasher’ t-shirt every other day. 

“Uh, I’m okay. How are you?” He sat at the couch and Adrian joined him. 

“Good! I’m all over that cold, thank god. It sucked. Hey, wasn’t Adrian amazing? At the concert? I watched the CD. He’s so good, isn’t he?” She spoke his praises animatedly but Trevor wasn’t in the mood. He just nodded, expression serious and reserved.

“He is.”

“I couldn’t believe it!” She huffed, but Trevor just nodded. A silence passed.

“I know.” Sypha blinked at him and relaxed back in her chair. Adrian forced a smile. It was already very awkward.

“Thanks.” He looked at Trevor briefly before looking back at Sypha.

“You’re lucky you saw him play in person. I bet people would pay a hundred bucks a ticket to hear you perform live. So good. Ah! I’m so proud of you, babe.” She was beaming, and then she remembered. Trevor looked down at the wine on the coffee table, an awkward expression on his face. Adrian’s jazz record was the only sound for several seconds. But the soothing melody did nothing to fix the discomfort in the air. Sypha looked at Trevor.

“So…” she started, “Adrian said he told you that- we - we’re together now. We’re dating.” Trevor nodded again.

“Yeah… I’m happy for you.” 

The tension in the air was decidedly strange. Sypha smiled placatingly. 

“He also said you have something to- tell me?” She was being very polite, trying to survive through the awkwardness and urge Trevor on. She held the smile while he shifted and looked around, finally getting situated properly on the couch and nodding, lips pursed. 

“I can leave if you want privacy,” Adrian offered.

“No,” Trevor shook his head, “What for? Stay.” 

“What do you want to tell me, Trevor?” Sypha repeated, a little confused but still optimistic. Trevor took a deep breath.

“First, I want to tell you…uh... I’m not straight.” He said the words slowly and with a bit of strain. It was very difficult to say the words aloud to her, as he knew it would be. “I’m actually, eh- bisexual. Like Adrian. We both are.” When he summoned the courage to look up and see her expression, he was very surprised. She was smiling and her eyes held a look that said ‘duh’. 

“I know, Trevor. I’ve known that pretty much since I met you.” Trevor gasped a little.

“What?! How?” He demanded, confused that she could see right through him. Sypha exhaled.

“When you’re drunk you check guys out. Actually a few times when you’ve been plastered, you talked about how hot some guy was, and I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to push you to come out if you were uncomfortable. It’s your decision. But I’m glad you can finally say it out loud,” she smiled and looked between them, “and I support you 100% of course. Both of you. Absolutely.” Trevor was surprised. He didn’t know that she knew he was bisexual.

“You’re really okay with it?”

“Of course! It’s great. Be yourself, Trevor. I’m proud of you for coming out.”

“Wait- wait. I need to be clear. The only people at school who know I’m bisexual are you two, and that’s how I want it to stay. I don’t want anyone else to know I’m not straight. Please. It’s very serious to me.”

Sypha nodded solemnly. “Okay. That’s your decision, and I’ll go along with it.”

“Me too. I won’t tell anyone,” Adrian agreed. Trevor looked at him, then his soft lips, and finally back at Sypha. He found it very hard to meet her gaze, but he tried. 

“Well, I - I guess I should apologize next. I- I definitely should.”

“For what?” Sypha scowled, leaning forward in her chair curiously. She put her glass of wine down, searching Trevor’s face. 

“Um... I-” he could barely force himself to answer, so he just blurted it out, “I kissed Adrian when we were in the city.” Sypha’s eyebrows shot up, her blue eyes going wide. “It’s my fault that we’ve waited a week to tell you. He wanted to tell you right away, but I made him wait. I was so-” Trevor rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans, exhaling raggedly, “I was so nervous to tell you. And I’m really sorry.”

He looked into her eyes, guilty and remorseful, “I’m really sorry, Sypha. I mean, I didn’t know he was your boyfriend, but I kind of guessed, and I- I did it anyway. I’m so sorry.” He looked back down at his lap, awaiting judgment and punishment. He prepared himself for her to yell at him, to slap him in the face, to say she didn’t want to see him ever again. But when that didn’t happen he looked up again, confused.

“Trevor, it’s okay. You don’t have to be sorry,” Sypha cooed, smiling at him, moving to the couch, “Treffi, it’s okay. I’m not mad at you.” Trevor scowled and blinked a few times.

“Really?” He couldn't believe that.

“No. Why should I be? You didn’t even know we were dating. I mean, in the future when I’m dating someone I would appreciate you asking me first, to make sure I’m okay with it, but -yeah. It’s fine... I knew there was something going on between you too.” They both startled at that.

“You- what?!” Trevor gasped. Adrian’s eyes went wide. He set his wine glass down too, turning towards her. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, confused. She laughed easily.

“Well, it’s obvious that you two have chemistry. Come on! I’m not a moron. I was in this living room. I watched you passionately make out with each other. You like each other. A lot. I’ve never seen Trevor be that way with anyone. It’s obvious you like each other.” She found the whole scenario amusing and Trevor looked at her blankly while she patted his back.

“Wait, wha-” he scowled and licked his lips, shaking his head, “I don’t understand. Why aren’t you mad at us? Shouldn’t you be mad at him, at least? He knew you were dating.” Adrian gulped, worried about her anger.

“No, I’m not mad,” she shook her head, “I’m not possessive. I like you, Trevor. And I want Adrian to be happy. And I want you to be happy. So if you two make each other happy, you have my blessing to- you know-” she wiggled her eyebrows, “enjoy each other. I believe in open relationships. As long as there’s honest communication. So, Adrian, you should just tell me if you want to be with someone else. And we can talk about it, in the future. And if I feel attraction to someone else, I can tell you too. That way there’s just honesty and communication in everything. We’re all human. We all have urges, and desires. As long as those desires don’t hurt me, I’m fine with it.” Adrian and Trevor both sat in silence, stunned and wide-eyed. Trevor’s mouth was open in disbelief, and Sypha giggled.

“This is 2018. We’re not in olden times. Let’s just try to have a good life, and enjoy each other. That’s my philosophy. That’s what I was raised on. Free love.” Trevor and Adrian looked at each other in perplexment and then back at Sypha.

“Your upbringing was weird as fuck, wasn’t it?” Trevor laughed, dropping his head and holding it in his hands, shaking his head, shaggy brown hair falling in front of his eyes. Sypha shrugged cutely.

“I don’t think it was weird. I think it was… accepting. And maybe a bit modern in some ways. But then again, not really, because in ancient civilizations women knew their husbands were having extramarital affairs with men, as per the standard, especially in Ancient Rome, and that was totally fine. And the Samurai, in ancient Japan. They had male lovers on the side. Homosexual male sex was commonplace and expected in several ancient societies, so it’s really not anything new. Anyway, it’s no issue to me is Adrian wants a little ‘something something’ with you. Be happy. Enjoy each other. Have sex. I trust you not to forget about me.” She seemed to hold no resignations, no fear of abandonment at all.

“What?” Adrian startled, brows drawn together.

“What are you talking about? We would never- Sypha! Seriously what- what the fuck?!” Trevor huffed, confused and somehow upset, “I mean, no offense, but seriously, why aren’t you mad? You’re so weird sometimes. Jesus Christ. I can’t-” he stood up, shaking his head, a bit freaked out. “No. We can’t do this. I’m sorry. I just- no. No. No. I can’t do this. This is too weird.”

“Do what?” She asked. Trevor started to pace a little, moving away from them, his body language decidedly nervous.

“Well, I can’t be with Adrian, for starters. I won’t be able to sustain the fiction of being straight if I do that. And I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking Adrian away from you, or I’m being needy if I spend too much time with him. And what about when were all hanging out? That would be so fucking strange. No, no- no this is too weird. I can’t-” he was speaking very fast, eyes moving around in confusion and bafflement, “I’m sorry- but no. This is _crazy_.” 

“Okay, calm down, please. I didn’t say you needed to do anything, I just said you could if you want to. If that makes you happy.” She placated, trying to help him calm down.

“Trevor,” Adrian cut in, “you don’t have to do anything. We can just go back to being friends, no problem. I’m fine with that. It seems like this is making you really uncomfortable.”

“It is,” he admitted, overwhelmed by the idea that Sypha was proposing. He had never heard of such a thing, and her reaction had confused him deeply. Adrian sort of sighed.

“Then we just won’t do it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

The trio looked around in confusion at each other and Adrian finished off his wine in the awkward silence. Trevor exhaled oddly and Sypha stood up, her little pink skirt bouncing a bit as she jumped. She walked around the chair and over to the dining table. Trevor and Adrian both watched her as she grabbed her sacky blue hobo bag and threw her phone inside.

“Let’s get out of here. Come on. We can forget about this. You guys want to catch a movie or something?” Trevor and Adrian looked at each other again. They were all ready to put that uncomfortable situation behind them.

“Sure.” He nodded.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Sorry that I- fuck. I made things more awkward, I guess.”

“It’s fine,” Sypha reassured him, “Things don’t have to be awkward. Adrian and I are dating, you’re just our friend. There’s nothing awkward about it.” She went to get her coat and put on her shoes. Trevor watched her, feet planted on the floor, thinking about it. He was still scowling a little, his mind reeling from the discussion that had just happened. Adrian approached him, whispering.

“Hey, Trevor, I’m sorry if that made you feel weird. Or if I did something to upset you, maybe I- Are you okay?” Adrian asked Trevor. Trevor looked at Adrian’s expression of concern and his face shifted to a typical ‘straight macho male’ expression, nodding. 

“Yeah, ‘course. Forget about it. Let’s go.” He brushed it off and the trio went to the movie theater, leaving the conversation behind them.

* * *

-Saturday-

[Mom]

Mom (9:04 am) Hey, honey. Are you going to come to the house this weekend? Your dad is coming home. He wants to see you.

Adrian (9:18 am) I’m not going home. I don’t want to see him. 

Mom (9:20 am) Why? Are you mad at him for missing the concert?

Adrian (9:24 am) I don’t want to see him. I’m staying here. 

Mom (9:25 am) Okay.

* * *

Adrian squinted in the light, glancing to look over the pine tree-covered hill at the blue and yellow sky before turning back around. It was late afternoon, and sunset wasn’t far off. He was alone on his balcony leaning casually against the railing. After hours of studying chemistry and neurobiology, he desperately needed a break. It had been a lonely and dull afternoon. But Adrian was very used to feeling lonely. Sypha was busy with her friends. And Trevor had a hockey game which he wasn’t particularly in the mood to go to. So he relaxed by himself on his balcony in his Saint Laurent leather jacket, lit a cigarette, and smoked in solitude. But after a minute of relative silence, a sudden noise startled him, and he saw movement inside his apartment. When he turned, he saw his father, plain as day, in his living room. Their eyes met and it then Adrian knew it was too late. He froze with the cigarette in his hand. _Shit._ Dracula came out to the balcony, opening the sliding glass door. Adrian exhaled smoke angrily. His expression had already shifted from shocked to upset.

“Dad. What are you doing here?” Adrian began, exasperated. Vlad didn’t answer that.

“You’re smoking?” He scowled, standing next to his son and glaring at the cigarette. Adrian sighed harshly. He was not in a good mood. 

“When did this start?” Vlad pushed, raising a brow. Adrian gritted his teeth before he took another drag, not caring anymore. He didn’t look his father in the eye. He enjoyed the burn in his lungs, the toxins in his lungs. It didn’t matter. It was his small rebellion. He loved it.

“A while ago. I don’t know, a year? Why are you here?” He repeated in frustration.

“I can’t believe you’ve kept this from me for a year. Your mother would be so angry with you, don’t you know that? How disappointed she would be to see you doing this? Tsk.” Adrian glared at his father’s perfectly pressed suit and tie. His fresh haircut. Not one hair out of place. 

“...okay.” Adrian exhaled smoke a little too close to him, almost blowing it in his face.

“Okay?!” Dracula repeated angrily, using his hand to blow the smoke away. “That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

“Yes,” was his curt reply. He finished smoking and Vlad watched him in critical silence. Adrian put his cigarette out on the Chanel ashtray and looked back at his father. 

“Do you need something from me? If not, go, please. I want to be alone.”

Vlad exhaled sharply.

“What has gotten into you, Adrian? You’re smoking? And you told your mother that you didn’t want to come down the house this weekend because you didn’t want to see me?” He sounded incredulous. His son never usually had such bad behavior. Or at least what he considered bad behavior to be.

“So, mom sent you? Figures.” Adrian gritted his teeth.

“Is this all because I missed your concert? Because, honestly, Adrian, I expected more of you. This is a _very childish reaction_ ,” he shook his head, disappointed and critical. 

When he looked back at Adrian, instead of the look of shame he expected, he was glaring daggers, a very dangerous look in his eyes. To anyone who knew him, the look would be downright frightening. He was so rarely angry or obviously disturbed. Usually his expressions ranged between polite smiles, empty gazes, and melancholic frowns. Dracula scowled deeply at the peculiar, frightening expression on his teenage son’s face.

“Leave,” he warned, a low sound in his throat. Vlad shook his head.

“Adrian, I’m not going to leave,” he was almost incredulous, “Why are you so mad at me? I came up here to apologize to you.” Adrian gave him an icy glare.

“Oh? _Really?_ You came here to apologize to me? _Hah_ \- How strange. All you’ve done so far is deride me and insult me.” His voice was sharp and fierce. He was angry, deeply angry, and Vlad could tell just how upset he really was.

“Yes, that’s why I came. I suppose I’m not doing a great job at it-”

“You think? First you enter my apartment, without knocking, and come out here. You never texted me. You never called me. You just barge in, as if you’re sure I have _nothing to do_ on a Friday night, like it’s perfectly okay to enter my apartment without even asking? You just let yourself in?” He started to rant. Vlad scowled.

“I thought it would be fine! It’s not like I would be walking in on anything.”

Adrian sneered at him, nostrils flaring.

“Actually, you could be, but thanks for the insult. _Subtle_. I have a girlfriend, for your information, and you definitely could have been walking in on something. If you ever bothered to talk to me, you would know that, but you never do anymore, so-”

“ _You have a girlfriend?_ When did that start?” Vlad tried to change the subject, dark eyes widening. Adrian refused to let him change the subject.

“A couple weeks ago. That’s how long it’s been since you last talked to me, actually. You don’t even bother asking anymore. You don’t talk to me. You don’t show up to my concert. You don’t even bother to tell me you can’t make it. Instead, you get mad at me a week later for not coming home when you say I should and then you yell at me. _What an apology!_ ” He went off, starting to get louder in his anger. Vlad knew he was in the wrong and he looked down at his shiny shoes. 

“Let’s go inside. It’s freezing out here.” 

They went to his living room and Vlad took off his coat, folding it over a chair. They sat down. A tense emotion filled the air.

“Adrian,” Vlad sighed again, “I came up here to apologize. The smoking just- took me off guard. I never expected to come into your apartment and find you doing that. I know you’re angry at me, but I -” he huffed, “this has been a difficult time- these last few weeks. That’s why I’ve been absent. Things have been crazy at work and - I haven’t been able to pry myself away. I just came from the house. I was apologizing to your mom as well. She wasn’t happy with me, either. I know this has been rough for you both.” Adrian’s dour expression didn’t change. His next words were completely serious.

“Let me ask you something. The night of my concert- what were you doing?”

“I was at a meeting,” Vlad muttered, waving his hand dismissively.

“What meeting? _Specifically? Who_ were you meeting with?” Adrian pressed. Vlad looked at him for a moment, face impassive.

“The Order.”

“ _The Order,_ ” Adrian huffed and rolled his eyes a little, “ _Of course._ Why should I be surprised?”

“It was extremely important. Believe me, Adrian. It was urgent and I couldn't leave. We barely ate, we barely slept. It was - it was a serious situation. I couldn't go. That’s why I haven’t been in contact with you for a month. That’s why I missed the concert.”

“What a convenient excuse.” Adrian was disillusioned, and he felt like he was done with all the bullshit his father said to him. 

“Don’t be like that! Don’t be so dramatic, it’s- unbecoming. You know how serious our business can be, at times. How serious the issues are that we have to deal with. Don’t be childish, Adrian. It was just a violin performance. I’ve been to dozens of those before.”

A heavy, angry silence passed. Adrian looked up at him.

“ _Please leave_ ,” he growled, face drawn into a scowl. Vlad made a low noise of annoyance and frustration.

“No. I’m not going to leave. Stop saying that. Come on,” he moved to the couch with Adrian and put his hand on his son’s shoulder. Adrian shifted away from him and moved back, into the corner of the couch. He curled into himself. Vlad frowned at the reaction.

“Are you really so angry at me?” Adrian wouldn't look at him.

“You don’t understand. Or maybe you just don’t care to understand. It’s not just the concert I’m mad about. I’m mad at you because it’s so clear now where your priorities really lie. And who you care most about. The Order. And yourself. That’s who you care about, not me.”

“Don’t be like that, Adrian. I had to be there. I had no-”

“ _You had no choice_ , I know,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ve heard that before.” He stood up suddenly, walking to the kitchen. Vlad followed him.

“What else was I to do? Walk out of there, get on a plane, leave everything in chaos? For a violin concert?” Adrian faced away from him, gripping the counter with one hand.

“You didn’t- even -remember. And I reminded you. More than once.” 

“I knew you had something going on but I couldn’t get away. That’s life, Adrian.”

“There’s literally _no excuse_ for not being able to text me ‘Hello, Adrian. I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you for _weeks_ , but I’m not going to make it to your concert. Sorry. Good luck’. That takes less than 20 seconds!” He shot back, turning around and yelling over his shoulder. He was done. Sick and tired of putting up with bullshit all the time. Over and over again.

“Mgrh,” Vlad groaned, frustrated, “Okay, I should’ve called you and said ‘I’m sorry, I can’t make it.’ Alright. I didn’t do it. It was an oversight. Please forgive me, Adrian.” Silence. Adrian glared at the kitchen counter. Then he turned around, a powerful energy in him. A defiance. He was firm.

“No,” he declared, standing his ground. Vlad scowled in confusion. He found it a strange display, one he had rarely ever seen. 

“What is wrong with you today? Why are you being so damn dramatic? I don’t know why you’re so upset about this. This is something only a ten-year-old would be this mad about,” Vlad shot back, annoyed. Adrian’s face contorted into a snarl, a nerve struck with him, and he went off,

“ _Because you don’t care about me! You don’t give a shit about me!_ You don’t even seem to care that you _humiliated me_ in front of everyone. Your empty chair was there, glaring at me. Three thousand people came to watch me perform- _three thousand_ \- but not you. The _only_ empty seat. You. And it was even more embarrassing because they put your name on there with a little laminated placard, so everyone could see, ‘Oh, _right_ . Dracula didn’t even _bother_ to see his son perform at Carnegie Hall’.”

“It was at Carnegie Hall?” Vlad asked inappropriately, brow raised.

“ _Yes!_ It was a _big deal_ . I have my own recording being made. And a DVD. Which will be distributed across the world. _I won fifty thousand dollars!_ For the grand prize. This was the pinnacle of my entire musical career, and not only did you not come, you didn’t even say you were sorry, and you waited another week afterward to even talk to me! _And then you yelled at me!_ For not going home. Why did you even bother coming here? It’s obvious you don’t give a shit about me. I’m done with this. I’m so fucking done with this,” he ranted, breathing erratically. Dracula opened his mouth, ready to respond, but Adrian wasn’t done yet.

“You _made_ me take violin lessons since I was in elementary school. You made me practice hours a day, even in the summer. All those lessons, all those hours of practice. And then you don't. _Even. Fucking. Show. Up._ I’ve been practicing for over ten years now- _for you_ ! _Because you wanted me to._ And I won one of the most prestigious musical competitions in the whole world, and you don’t give a _shit_! You don’t even show up for it,” Adrian had given up on politeness, taking everything out on his father in a furious rant, beginning to yell at him with all the fury and intimidation of which Dracula himself was capable. High on his own rage, Adrian turned cold for a moment, firmly on the defensive, walking towards his father, his voice edging on menacing. 

“And then- then you have the _audacity_ to come in here and turn it around on _me_ ?! And call _me_ childish, and say _I’m_ making too big of a deal out of it! You twist everything, you gaslight me, you say it’s all my fault. I’m never good enough, I can’t get anything right, I’m smoking, I’m a disappointment. _I’m not a fucking failure!_ The only failure here is _you failing to show up for me!_ And _you_ \- failing to be a good father! You obviously only care about yourself. And I’m done caring about what you think anymore. You don’t care about me _at all._ ”

“I do! Adrian, sto-”

“ _Don’t tell me to stop!_ You don’t even talk to me anymore! And I don’t mean only these last few weeks. You don’t seem to care at all anymore about me _unless it benefits you_ . I’m _done with this! I’m done caring about pleasing you!_ Why should I give a fuck what you think about me at all anymore? You make no effort to be involved in my life, you don’t talk to me, and when you do come over you, insult me and mock me relentlessly. Even when I do everything _perfectly_ it’s not enough for you, and you _still_ see something wrong with me. _It’s never enough. I’m never enough. Never!_ ” He started to break down in tears, anger fading into despair. He covered his face in his hands and began to sob loudly, backing away from him. Vlad approached him, a guilty frown on his face. His expression had shifted. 

“Adrian, that’s not true. No, no… that’s not true.” Adrian’s sobbing was an obvious contradiction to that statement and Vlad grew remorseful seeing his young son cry so deeply in front of him. He softened, stepping closer.

“Oh, _Jesus_ , I messed up here. Adrian, oh, my boy,” he tried to hold him, but Adrian pushed his father’s hands away, wiping tears from his face angrily. 

“I’m sorry. Agh… please don’t hate me for this. I’m sorry,” he tried to hold him again, but Adrian pushed his hands away once more.

“You _always_ do this. You,” he stopped himself from crying, a difficult feat, face red and wet with tears, “ _you can’t keep doing this._ You always do whatever you want to do, with complete disregard for other people’s feelings, and expect it all to be fine. That’s not a relationship. That’s nothing. That’s bullshit. That’s just you ordering people around _like servants_ ,” he muttered, disillusioned and sad. Vlad sighed again, reaching over to soothe him, stroking his back. Another tear slipped down his cheek. He bit his lip to keep from sobbing more. Vlad scowled deeply as his son failed to stop his tears from falling.

“Adrian, don’t cry, son. I am sorry. I mean it. Don’t cry... please.”

“Why should I believe you?” He whispered through tears, meeting his father’s gaze.

“I’ll try, Adrian. I promise. Please don’t cry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset so much... I’ll make it up to you.”

“How could you make it up to me? You weren’t there.” He scowled.

“I’ll spend more time with you, son. We can talk more. As much as you want. And I’ll go to your next event. I swear. Cross my heart. Okay?” He raised his eyebrows, expecting Adrian’s anger to vanish. Adrian wasn’t mad any longer, only sad. Vlad sat down again.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” He mumbled, looking away.

“I’m here right now! Play it for me. Please, come on. I’d love to hear your piece. I’ll listen to you play now.” Adrian went to the counter, tossing a CD in his dad’s lap.

“You can listen to the CD. I’m not really interested in violin anymore.” He went to the fridge and took out some coconut water, wiping the last of his tears away. 

“What?” Vlad was concerned again, “ _Not interested?_ ” Adrian looked over his shoulder at him, making his decision.

“No, not interested. I guess you could say I’m turned off to the whole thing now. This has upset me deeply. Do you know I threw a whole party for you? I mean, it was for my friends, too. But I wanted you to come after the concert and… and neither you or mom came. Only one person came. And it was so humiliating. I had a whole party planned, and I got a caterer and a party planner. It was all decorated. I rented an apartment just for the party and put out a lot of food. And none of you came.” He leaned against the counter, a frown on his beautiful face. Vlad approached the kitchen, pursing his lips and walking over to his son.

“I didn’t know you were throwing a party… Well, you can have another one, some other time. I’ll pay for it of course. Or we could-” Adrian remembered the advice that Trevor had given him and decided to take it. It was better not to expect anything at all. He had a girlfriend and a best friend, that was enough. Right?

“No, it’s all ruined. Forget it. I’m _done_ with trying to make this work, Dad. I’ll just live my own life and you can live yours, and I won’t expect you to show up to anything.” He began to walk away, but Vlad tried pulling him back, grabbing him by the arm.

“Adrian, no, that’s not what I want! I want to be close with you. Ah, I know I’m terrible at this, but there was a serious situation. Please don’t be like this. It’ll be okay. I’m here now. I’m free all day tomorrow and we can be together. So I can spend time with you. Let’s go out. I came all this way. I deserve to see you. We talk about whatever you want.”

Another tear slipped down Adrian’s pale cheek and he slowly shook his head, still trying to deny him, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Listen, listen to me,” he cupped Adrian’s face in his hands, a parental expression of concern on his face. “I’m sorry, son. I am. Please, let me make this up to you. I know I messed up... Won’t you give me a chance to make this better? I’m here now. Spend time with me. Adrian.” Adrian looked into his father’s dark eyes, full of concern, and then he looked away. And he relented.

“...okay.” Vlad relaxed, a smile appearing on his face.

“Good, good. Let’s go somewhere. Let’s spend some time together, hm? Just the two of us, like old times. I do miss you, my boy. You know I do, right?” Adrian gave him a dead eyed stare that meant ‘no’. “Maybe not. I should say that more often. I want to spend the weekend with you, come on. Let’s do it.” Adrian raised a blonde brow.

“You’re really not going to work?” _I don’t believe it._ Vlad shrugged.

“Well, I might have to take half an hour at one point to answer some emails and make a couple of calls, but I’ll spend the rest of the weekend with you. I mean it,” he started walking towards Adrian’s room, “Right now. Let’s go. Come on, I’ll help you get a bag packed. I’m going to spend time with you.” _Argh._

“Alright.” They went to Adrian’s closet as he packed a Louis Vuitton Keepall Bandouliere 50 with his things. Socks, pajamas, hairbrush. He paused when he realized how close his father was standing.

“What?” Vlad reached out to touch Adrian’s long hair, picking up a golden lock and seeing how long it was.

“Adrian, I wish you would cut your hair,” he sighed softly, like he was disappointed. _Urgh._ Adrian took his hair back.

“No. I like it long.” 

Vlad sighed a little and pursed his lips, but he let it go.

“Alright.” He walked around his son’s huge, custom-built closet, looking at his things. He had been to the apartment only one time before, when Adrian was still moving in. He looked intrusively through all of Adrian’s things. Opening drawers, picking up items.

“What - is this?” He held out a sheer, striped Saint Laurent Shirt that was definitely not heterosexual. Adrian glanced at his father’s raised eyebrow. _Already. What was that, one minute?_

“It’s YSL, I think,” he shrugged, putting a pair of black jeans in his bag.

“No, I mean - It’s - It’s see-through and... very _shiny_. Where would you wear this?” He picked up another partially translucent shirt with a strange look on his face. A very condescending look.

“I haven’t worn it yet,” he sighed, “I would wear it on top of a sweater or something.” Dracula looked over his silk shirt collection with a critical eye, frowning at them. _Fuck._

“ _What?_ _What is it?_ ” Adrian practically spat, knowing that he was criticizing. Vlad made a face and shrugged.

“They’re… flamboyant,” he muttered quietly, suggestively. Adrian restrained himself from rolling his eyes at his father. _The microinsults have already begun. Jesus. I don’t want to go._

“Yeah? Why does that matter? I like them,” he snapped defensively. 

“No, it’s, I don’t know, they’re just - they’re kind of feminine, son.” 

_You’ve got to be kidding me._

“ _Will you stop_? Please? Or I’m not going to go.” He tossed a shirt down on his ottoman.

“Stop what?” Vlad acted shocked, like he didn’t know what he was doing. 

“Stop criticizing me. Constantly. Trying to fix me. Please, stop, or I’m not going to spend time with you _at all anymore._ Stop trying to fix me,” he groaned, pinching his temple. Vlad looked at him and sighed.

“I’m not trying to fix you,” he replied softly.

“ _Yes, yes you are,_ ” Adrian muttered softly, “You know I’m not straight. Please stop pretending like I am.” Vlad scowled deeply, stepping closer.

“But, I thought you said you have a girlfriend. You just said you did-”

“I do. But that doesn’t - _ugh,_ ” he groaned in annoyance, “That doesn’t change anything. I’m still bisexual. How many times do I have to explain it? I don’t know if you really don’t get it or if you’re just trying to manipulate me.” Vlad raised his hands in the air.

“Woah, Adrian, I’m not trying to do anything! I’m just talking to you. Calm down. Wear what you want, okay? They’re just- _not my style_ , is all.” Adrian tilted his head and gave him a look. He normally wouldn’t snap back at his father, but Vlad had messed up and he knew he was in the wrong, so he felt comfortable enough to do so. And he was sick of everything.

“Well I’m not you, am I? I’m not a miniature version of you. I like silk shirts. I’m an artist. I’m bisexual. I smoke. I’m blonde. We’re not the same person.” Dracula said nothing for a while, thinking. Eventually, he nodded.

“Of course not. I’m sorry. Here,” he went to get the shirt and handed it to him, “Wear it to dinner if you want to. Go ahead.”

“No, that’s okay,” he exhaled in annoyance, going to get a sweater.

“Please don’t be mad at me. I’m not trying to be mean. Adrian, you know what I’m like when I’m being mean. I’m not. I’m just trying to-” he paused, speaking slowly, “figure this out... Figure you out,” he turned, looking at the other things in his son’s closet, picking up a leather jacket. 

“Why do people say that about me? Am I really that strange?”

“I didn’t say strange. You are- unique, though. You are,” he nodded, and then he stopped, “That’s not a bad thing. Follow your own path, Adrian. But if you do join us when you turn twenty-one, you’re eventually going to have to stop wearing things like this. I know you like fashion, but -it’s too much. There’s a certain standard of modesty and austerity in public places.” Dracula himself was dressed in a formal, three piece suit by Tom Ford.

“ _If_ I join. I never promised that I will,” he mumbled, looking down at the bag and then back up at his dad. 

“I know. You can take your time and think it over. But - where’s your jewelry?”

“In the safe box, in that drawer.” He pointed to the pull out drawer with a combination lock, embedded into the closet’s woodwork.

“This one? What’s the code?”

“1717.” Vlad smiled at that.

“ _Very good,_ ” he opened the safe drawer and looked over his son’s jewelry, picking up the ring that he was looking for, handing it over, “Will you wear it, please? For me? I bought it for you and you never wear it.” Adrian looked up at the ring, not taking it from him.

“That’s because I’m not sure if I’m going to join yet. I haven’t made up my mind.”

“But I raised you on these principals, Adrian. You agree with what we stand for. Beauty, strength, wisdom. You can wear the ring. It shows you’re an honorary part of The Brotherhood. If not in actuality, then in spirit and decorum. You uphold our values. _Don’t you?"_

“Fine. I’ll wear it, okay?” Adrian gave up, sighing a little. He slid the exquisite platinum and gold signet ring on his finger. The emblem of the Freemasons was engraved on its surface, and the pinnacle of the compass was a glittering diamond. Vlad gave him a small smile when he saw it on his hand.

“It makes me happy when you wear it, Adrian. You know that. Ok, Let’s get going. I want to get to the city before it’s too late so we can have dinner.”

“Do I need to wear a suit? For dinner?”

“Well, where do you want to go? We can go wherever you want.”

“Le Bernardin?” Adrian remembered the delicious French food he had eaten there. His father nodded and took out his phone.

“Sure, I’ll call and get us a table.”

A few hours and a plane flight later they were in Manhattan, seated in the exquisite white and gold French restaurant off Central Park. Adrian was still upset, but he was at least relieved to be having some amazing food. A waiter approached their table.

“Good evening.”

“Hello. We’ll do the chef’s tasting menu tonight.”

“Very good, sir. What would you like to drink?”

“A bottle of champagne. Let’s make it a bottle of Krug- 2006. My son recently won the Manhattan Music Competition for the violin,” he complimented a little loudly, causing the nearby tables to look at them. There were a few whispers when people recognized Dracula’s face and who he was. 

“Oh, congratulations!” The waiter smiled, “What fantastic news. I’ll bring a bottle out right away.” Adrian was not very pleased by the compliment. Many people were looking at him, but even more at his father, and the praise felt forced.

“Thank you,” Adrian muttered, forcing a tiny smile. He was silent as his dad looked over the menu, waiting for the waiter to come back with the champagne. He gritted his teeth.

“Here you are,” he popped the champagne and poured some into crystal glasses, “I’ll bring the first dish out right away.” Vlad simply nodded and the waiter left them alone. Adrian looked into his father’s dark eyes, thinking. 

“You know, you don’t need to do this,” he gestured to the menu and the glass of champagne. “I really don’t care about fancy dinners or expensive champagne. I just want you to support me. That’s it.”

“Well, I missed the concert, didn’t I? I can’t go back in time. I’m here with you right now. Let me try to make it up to you, son,” he inclined his head, “Will you let me do that, at least?”

Adrian pursed his lips, but he nodded. “Okay.”

“So,” Vlad began, taking a sip of champagne, “Why don’t you tell me about this new girlfriend of yours, hm?”

“What do you want to know?”

“Her name, to start.”

“Sypha Belnades. She’s the one I showed you on Instagram. From my school.”

“Ah, I remember. The cute redhead. _Very cute._ Good for you.” he took another drink and waited for Adrian to answer but he simply stared at the table, shifting in his seat. He felt odd.

“Go on, then,” Dracula prodded him on, “Tell me about her. How did you start dating?”

“Ah, I - I took her out to dinner here in the city. At La Grenouille. Then we went to the Top of the Standard. We danced a while.” He didn’t really meet his father’s gaze, instead his eyes flicked around, down at his thin hands, then to his glass of champagne. He busied himself with drinking some of the bubbly liquid.

“And then?” Vlad pushed, trying to draw him on. It was a bit painful. Adrian sighed through his nose.

“Look- I-” he met his gaze of concern, “I feel uncomfortable talking about this stuff with you. You haven’t even been a part of my life, lately. You’re practically a stranger. You can’t just have one dinner with me and expect everything to fall back into place like it was years ago. I feel like I can’t share things with you. We’re not close anymore,” he asserted honestly, his voice a serious whisper. Vlad scowled at him.

“Adrian, that’s not-” he was going to say it wasn’t true, but it was, “I’m sorry, son. I want to be a part of your life. You have to give me a chance... Come on. You can talk to me.” Adrian paused, thinking about what Vlad was saying. He supposed he had to. He felt that he had to give him a chance. The waiter dropped off their first dish, tuna tartare with caviar. He took his little spoon and tried a bit of caviar, washing it down with some champagne.

“It has to go both ways, too. It can’t just be me. Then it feels like an interrogation.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?”

“If you want us to have a relationship, you have to talk to me about your life, too.”

Vlad nodded. “Okay. What do you want to know?”

“How did things go with mom?”

“Oh, she was upset with me. I haven’t been speaking with her much either, because of this recent crisis. But I tried my best to make amends. I have to spend a lot of time with her, going forward. I haven’t been the best husband lately, by any means…” Vlad dropped the formality, leaning back in his chair, “I missed her birthday. I mean, I called her but- I wasn’t there. I sent her a present and she sent it back. It did not go well. We were supposed to go to Cannes, but I didn’t make it, of course. I do feel bad about it. I offered to make up the trip to her, but she said she didn’t want to. I need to go home tomorrow and spend a lot of time with her. Make up for how long I’ve been absent.”

“You should do that. She misses you. And it’s - it hurts both of us when you do this.”

“I know it does… But I’m here now. I want things to be better. With all of us. Will you come to the house tomorrow, please? So we can all be together?”

“Okay. Alright, but this time- you have to promise me you won’t just go completely silent. You have to at least talk to me on the phone. About something other than the company.”

“Yes. Of course. I promise.”

“Unless the world is _actually ending, and you’re saving the Earth from an asteroid or an alien invasion is imminent,_ you have to call me back. And talk to me.”

“I will. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Go ahead, Adrian. I want to hear the rest of the story. You were at the Top of the Standard with her, then what?”

“Then,” Adrian blushed a little, playing with his caviar, “Then I kissed her. And- I asked her to date me. She said yes.” Vlad smiled at that.

“Good for you. I’m glad. Your first girlfriend,” he muttered, taking a bite of his food.

“Mhm.” 

“How’s it going so far? Are you having fun?” Vlad raised an eyebrow playfully and Adrian rolled his eyes.

“Dad. Stop it,” he huffed. 

“Seriously, Adrian. Are you happy with her? Is she a good girlfriend?”

“Yeah, she is.”

“That’s good. And you remember, of course, that you can’t tell her anything-” he dropped off, and Adrian knew he meant that he couldn't tell her anything about The Order. A silence passed.

“I know.” Vlad nodded.

“Well, I’m very glad you have a girlfriend. She’s welcome to come out to the house sometime… You can take her somewhere for Spring Break, if you want.”

“Alright. I bet she’d like to go away.”

“Good. I’ll cover everything, just enjoy yourselves. Do you know where you want to go?” Adrian took a bite of tuna tartare, thinking.

“I’m not sure yet. I suppose I should ask her. Maybe… maybe down south, somewhere with some sun? I could take her somewhere on the yacht, I guess.”

“Yes, yes. Someone should use it. I wish I could go down there more often. CTC keeps me in the city.”

“You could, you just don’t. You’re the owner and the CEO, you can do whatever you want.”

“It’s not that simple. It’s important to be here, in the city. Or in California. In person. Online meetings don’t run the same. I feel better being in person. It’s much easier to command a room when you’re actually in it.”

“Hm.”

“But you definitely should take her on the yacht. That would be fun... You know, I should really do that with your mother. She keeps asking me to take her away.”

“Why don’t you?”

Vlad sighed.

“Things have been crazy lately. She’s mad at me too, Adrian.”

“I think what she would like is you spending some quality time with her.”

“Yes, I understand that. I will. Tomorrow night I’ll go to the house, you can come with me.”

“Okay. But I do have exams to study for.”

“Alright. How are your classes?”

“They’re kinda hard. It’s a lot of reading. A lot of tests. So much to memorize.”

“But you enjoy it? Neuroscience, I mean?” Vlad searched his face and Adrian blinked absently. 

“It’s- alright. It can be interesting.” Vlad looked him up and down. He was picking at his food idly, a blank stare on his pretty face.

“You sound very unenthusiastic about it.” Adrian pursed his lips.

“It wouldn’t be my first choice, but it’s... alright.”

“Adrian… You seem stressed lately, honestly.”

“I’m _always_ stressed.”

“That’s not good. I’m just going to say this outright- it doesn’t seem like you’re enjoying it that much. Neurobiology. Do you like the lectures? Or the labs?” Adrian blinked up at him, thinking.

“The lectures are… fine. A little boring. The labs can be stressful and annoying, honestly. I don’t enjoy them. I always worry about making a small mistake. It’s hard to get an A in advanced neuroscience. You have to study a lot.”

“I’m sure you can do it. You’re very smart.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled. The waiter came by to take their plates and serve the next dish: warm langoustine with seaweed over dashi broth. 

“However, it does concern me that you don’t like the labs. If you don’t like the labs, how will you enjoy the actual surgeries?” He sounded concerned, and Adrian looked up at him again, wondering why he suddenly cared. It seemed odd. He looked away, gears turning in his head.

“Well... I won’t, really. Not that much. It’s just a job. I have to do something, and neither of you want me to be an artist.” He was honest, looking his father in the eye. Vlad shook his head in the negative.

“That’s not true- we’ve always encouraged your art.”

“Let me rephrase. You don’t want me to get an art degree.” Vlad huffed.

“Oh- well, you don’t need a degree to practice art,” he posed casually, reminding Adrian again about his thoughts on the subject, “You’ve been drawing since you could hold a pencil. That’s a great hobby, one I happily encourage. I sent you to that artist's camp in high school, remember?” Adrian tried not to glare at him.

“...yeah. I remember… But what you’re saying doesn’t make sense given my circumstances. Given our circumstances. I would understand you saying that I can’t be an artist for my career if we were poor people, and we couldn’t afford to take that risk, but that’s never going to be an issue for us. I don’t need to make any money at it at all, so why does that even matter?”

“That’s not the point. Art is a great hobby for you, a good way to spend your free time, but… you need to participate in the world in other ways. You need to follow the tenants, the tenants I was raised on, and that I raised you on.”

“ _Urgh_ -”

“Arithmetic, Geometry, Astronomy, Music, Grammar, Rhetoric, Logic. This is what makes a principled man.”

“Yeah, I don’t hear computers anywhere in that list of acceptable fields,” Adrian posed sarcastically. Vlad exhaled.

“It uses the principles of arithmetic and logic. I think art is great, but it’s not a career, Adrian. Not for you, at least. Not for someone with my genes. Son, you excel in everything you do. You’re a very bright young man. That’s why your mother and I feel that you should have a main career and also some hobbies on the side. Your fencing and your violin concerts. That’s good. And your drawings are very good. I have one up in my office, remember? The one you did of the city in the rain. It’s a really good drawing. Very realistic.” _Jesus._ Adrian scowled at him, then his face fell flat again.

“ _But?_ ”

“But, you need to use your talents for other purposes as well, yes? Something other than art. Something- _more important than art_.” Adrian was starting to understand where the conversation was headed. He stopped eating, putting his spoon down. His father did the same. 

“It’s clear you’re not really enjoying neuroscience. You’re not passionate about going to medical school. I think… it’s time for you to make a switch. You’re such a talented computer programmer, Adrian.” _Of course. Of fucking course._ Vlad continued on and Adrian’s expression shifted, losing all emotion.

“I was just talking with your professor the other day. I called to ask how you were doing. He said you were, and I quote ‘The brightest student he’s ever had and the best programmer in an entry-level class.’ He said you’re a natural born programmer. I looked at the website you designed. It was great for a first try. And you’re so creative. Look, I know you like doing things with art. We can incorporate your artistry into CTC, someway. You can work on the physical designs of the computers and phones. You could do something with the graphic design as well, if you want. We’ll work it out.”

Silence.

“I think you’ll like it better than you think. It’s a creative process, making software, and making technology in general, which is much more to your liking, I would think. Being a surgeon is not, so I think this is the way to go. I think- you should change your major.” Adrian stared at the tablecloth, no expression on his face at all. He took a deep breath and a long sip of champagne. 

“Okay.” 

Vlad blinked, surprised by his answer and lack of a fight. Lack of emotion entirely.

“Okay? What-”

“Okay, I’ll change my major. What do you want it to be?” He blinked up at his father. Vlad was a bit shocked at how easily he accepted the advice. He faltered, moving along.

“Well, how about computer science? With minors in software engineering and business administration. I know it’ll probably be hard considering you’ve spent almost two years on the med-school track, but it doesn’t matter. You’re young, you can take your time. I don’t mind you spending an extra year in college. That’s fine. That way you don’t have to stress yourself with a strenuous course load. I’ll make sure you can have free time to do your drawings and fence. And see your little girlfriend. I’ll work out a good schedule for you, and suit it to your liking.”

“...Alright. I’ll go see my advisor on Monday. What should I do about my classes?”

“What are you taking now?”

“Advanced Neuroscience, Advanced Chemistry, French Conversation, CIS, and English.”

“Well, you can drop neuroscience and chemistry, of course. Stick with the rest.”

“It’s a month into the semester, father.”

“Well, that’s alright. I can call your professor, the one I talked to before, and ask him to let you into one of his other courses. I know it’s a little late, but I’ll get him to make an exception for you. Maybe software development theory? That’s easy enough to catch up with the rest of the class, hm? And if you’re not allowed to start this late, that’s okay, you can just go part-time for this semester, I suppose. And make up the rest later.” Dracula finished outlining his plans and leaned back in his chair, waiting for his son’s reaction. The nineteen-year-old looked like a perfect marble statue, sitting perfectly still, back straight, and face totally expressionless.

“Sure,” he agreed softly, looking away from his father, “...I guess I don’t have to worry about my exams anymore. That was _a lot of studying_ for nothing.” Vlad nodded.

“But you learned a lot, and now you can relax a bit, yes? That’s good. I don’t like you being so stressed all the time, son. Tomorrow we should take some time away from everything. Go see a movie or something.”

“I bet you haven’t gone to see a movie in twenty years, at least.”

“Not true! I just recently went to the Sundance movie festival with your mother. She wanted to go with her friends and insisted I come along. And I did! That was only a month ago or so. She loved it. We watched that movie you liked- what’s it called,” he snapped his fingers, “the one with the French gay boys on vacation in Italy?”

“ _Call Me By Your Name?_ ” Adrian groaned with a slightly pained expression.

“Yes, that’s the one. It was pretty good. Kind of hard to watch, though. I had to turn my head in some parts. But- it was well done. And I liked that other one, too, the documentary - _Casting Jon Benet_. That was good.”

“Did you see all of them?”

“No, we didn’t. I got tired of watching movies and we left after a couple days. We went skiing once, though. I think your mother really enjoyed the trip, even though we cut it short.”

“I didn’t know you guys went to that.”

“She didn’t mention it?”

“I don’t think so, she’s really very busy too.” Adrian ate another spoonful of soup.

“I have to admit, it’s not something I’d imagine you and mom going to. Well, maybe her, but not you.” Vlad gave him a raised brow.

“Why? Because I’m so old?” He teased, a little agitated. Adrian knew his dad didn’t like quips about his age. He was beginning to show signs of age, given that he was in his early fifties. His face was still quite handsome, but there were a few wrinkles around his eyes and a dash of white in his neatly trimmed hair and “Van Dyke” goatee. 

“You’re not that old. Mom’s just a lot younger than you.” Lisa was turning forty-one in a week. She was only twenty-one when she had Adrian, and everyone knew that he was an accident. Just after Vlad started dating her and paid for her tuition at medical school, she got pregnant. They got married quickly before she started showing, but it was clear from Adrian’s birthday that he was a surprise baby. She gave birth seven months after they had gotten married. But a couple years later she was back at Columbia medical school, then in a cushy residency at NY Presbyterian, where she had been working for over a decade. It all seemed to work out well for her, thanks to Dracula’s money. If he was poor she would probably have never become a doctor at all. But everyone, Adrian included, knew that although his mother loved Dracula, the reason she sought out and married a near forty-year-old fresh out of college was mostly due to his bottomless bank account. 

But Lisa wasn’t just an average Upper-East side gold digger. She had a career saving lives, and Adrian respected her for it. She could choose to just sit around Dracula’s sprawling mansions all day, or go shopping, like many billionaire’s wives did, but she didn’t. She worked just as hard as a poor person did because she cared that much about other people. His mother was a good person. Adrian knew that, even if she had married his father partly for his money. They still loved each other, despite everything, and she loved Vlad despite all the mistakes he made.

“She is still young,” Vlad sighed, taking a drink, “She likes to stay with the younger crowd. Go to all the exciting events and everything. Movie premieres and such. You know me, I’d rather be at home, reading a book. But she likes to go out, so we go. I don’t know if I’ll go again next year, but… anyway. It doesn’t matter. What do you want to do tomorrow? We can do anything you want.” He actually smiled at Adrian in genuine praise, his usually cold face lighting up with warmth and affection. Adrian knew that he was getting that smile because he had caved. He was doing exactly what his father wanted. It was a process he was familiar with. Adrian smiled back, but it was shallower, sadder. His eyes still held melancholy like they usually did. The waiter took their plates again.

“Would you like an intermezzo before the next course, gentlemen?” The thin man asked politely, a service industry smile on his face. Vlad glanced over to him.

“What is the next course?”

“A thin seared scallop, sir.” Vlad shook his head.

“No, no, I don’t want that. Last time I came here I believe my wife and I had a dish with artichoke- on top of risotto. I think it came with black truffles? Let’s have that instead.”

“Dad, I don’t think you’re allowed to change the dishes in a pre-fix menu," Adrian butted in, but the server shook his head. The server knew who he was and it was obvious. 

“Oh, it’s no problem at all. I can bring you the warm artichoke instead of the scallops.” He freshened their champagne glasses. Adrian noticed his father said no thank you at all, he just ignored him. It irked him deep inside when he did that and he let it show on his face. Vlad noticed.

“What? Don’t tell me you’re angry about me changing the dish,” he sighed exasperatedly, “When you’re paying a thousand dollars for dinner, you can change one of the dishes.”

“No, it’s just-” Adrian sighed, “you don’t even say thank you. Sometimes you treat people like- they’re part of the decor or something.”

Vlad glared at him, scolding him for speaking up.

“I do not. You don’t have to say thank you all the time to people. It’s their job. And you can say thank you once at the end of the meal. It’s not a big deal. Ah,” he huffed, waving his hand, “your generation. You’re all so worried about never upsetting anyone, never stepping on anyone’s toes. Don’t worry so much. The tip is the ‘thank you’, anyway, and I tip well. Just relax. You’re always so worried about everything. I swear, you're even more worried than I am.” 

Dracula was being condescending and Adrian decided to show that he was upset on his face. Vlad sighed again, like he was sick of Adrian getting offended. 

“Oh, don’t be mad. Please. Adrian?”

Silence. Adrian topped off his own champagne glass. Vlad leaned forward, whispering.

“What did I say now? ... _you’re so sensitive_.”

“Nothing. Forget it.”

“Are you still mad at me for missing your concert?”

“I-” he stopped because the server brought them the next dish, warm artichoke with black truffles on top. His father always got the fastest service.

“I know I can’t change you, Dad. And I won’t try. But honestly, you’re so hard to be with sometimes.”

“Why is that?”

A blank stare. Vlad rolled his eyes.

“Out with it, come on,” he insisted quickly. 

“Right there. You’re so - _demanding._ Always. You're constantly ordering people around, telling them is or that. What to do, what to say, what not to say, where to go, what major to pick, what shirt to wear. You shouldn’t treat me like that. I’m not your PA. I’m not your butler. I’m your son. And I should be able to say thank you to a waiter if I want to be polite. I don’t need to be exactly like you. I _can’t_ be exactly like you, we’re different people.”

Vlad sighed heavily, making painful eye-contact with him. He gritted his teeth.

“Of course we are,” he sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I know I do this. I’ll try to get better. I’m just- I don’t -I don’t think about it. I’m used to being that way.”

“That’s because no one ever tells you not to act that way. Because they’re scared of you. The only people who do are me… or mom. And we don’t even say everything we want to say,” he mumbled, looking down.

“Argh,” he grumbled, a serious look in his eye, “I’ll work on it.”

“Okay.”

“Now, what do you want to do tomorrow?” 

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. He wasn't in a good mood at all. He picked at his food, piercing a black truffle and eating it. 

“Come on. I haven’t seen you in a long time, you’re right. We don’t spend enough time with each other. What do you want to do? Go shopping? Take a walk in Central park? Go to a museum? We can do anything, son.”

“Uh, I guess that sounds good. Sure.”

“How about breakfast in the Plaza? With tea? You always loved that.”

“Alright. I like the Plaza.”

“I think we should both get massages- if you want. It should help with your stress. I’d like one.”

“Can we go to the spa at Equinox? In their hotel? I like their massages.”

“Absolutely. Did you know I was thinking about buying Equinox?”

“Really? The whole company?”

“Yeah. I’m talking with Saul about that. It might be a good investment. We’ll see.”

“But- What if there’s a market crash, though? We’re nearing the end of this expansion phase. I think we’re close to the peak soon. Maybe in 2019 or 2020. I’m just saying, if there’s a crash soon, which there might be, the first thing people are going to stop paying for is a luxury gym membership they don’t need. It’s like 200 dollars a month, which is a lot of money for someone to pay for a gym membership they don’t need.” 

“That’s an excellent point. You’re right,” he looked impressed, “Since when did you know so much about the economy?” Adrian shrugged.

“I read economics books sometimes. And I pick things up... Maybe you should get a new investment manager, or whatever his job title is.”

“Maybe I should. Ah, see, I should have you around more often. See, this is why I want you to work with me at the company. You have such a good perspective on things- a fresh, youthful perspective. I like that. And you’re so smart.”

“I already work for you, Dad. I don’t know why you’re selling so hard.”

“I’m not selling anything. I’m trying to compliment you.”

“Really?” _You’re not going to ask for something in a few minutes? You’re not going to hand over a document where I pledge to work at CTC forever, or something?_

“Really.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“It’s hard to believe you care about me much at all.” 

“Oh, Adrian. I know you get upset with me. But I mean the best for you, truly. And I do think very highly of you. You’re my boy.”

“Come on. I said I was sorry. Don’t let this ruin things. Son... I love you.”

Adrian said nothing. A silence passed. Vlad moved forward, confused, and saddened by his son’s silence. It upset him.

“Adrian?” His son looked down at the plate, gaze vacant and sad.

“What?”

Vlad scowled deeply, a frown appearing on his face.

“You’re not going to say it back to me?”

Adrian stilled.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, a little painfully. A little forcefully. Vlad exhaled in exasperation, putting his head in his hands. Adrian’s heartbeat increased. He hoped he hadn’t just struck a nerve. When his father lost his temper, it wasn’t a pretty picture. It could be terrifying. But Vlad wasn’t angry. He was trying not to cry, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing in defeat.

“I really messed up, didn’t I? You’ve never been this mad at me before.” Adrian softened a bit at the sight of his father trying not to cry, hoping that he wouldn't do that in the middle of a restaurant.

“Dad, of course, I love you. I just- you haven’t been there for me lately. You haven’t even been a part of my life. How can you expect me to be so nonchalant about that? Even when you're with me, you’re usually elsewhere. On your phone or in your own head, worrying about the company, or The Order,” he whispered, “And you take your dinner to your room. Or you leave to take a call. And you never talk to me for more than five minutes about my life. And you bring me to Tokyo for business and spend the whole time with other people, and I just sit there saying nothing, or watching movies in my hotel room. Lately, it’s like every time you do talk to me, which is rare to begin with, you have an agenda. You always have an agenda. Always.”

“That’s not true,” he shook his head.

“Really? You didn’t just clear your weekend and take me to a fancy dinner so I’d change my major?” He finally said what he had been thinking, and Vlad stared at him intensely. He shook his head.

“No, that’s not true. I wanted to spend time with you. I missed you.”

The blonde looked down at the table, saying nothing.

“Adrian, I - I don’t know what to say. I’ve been preoccupied with work. It’s not because of you. But I do want to spend time with you. I do care about you. Don’t you know that?”

Adrian tried to push down the lump in his throat. He said nothing.

“Then prove it. Try spending time with me without an agenda. Without work.”

“Okay… okay. I will. Right now.”

“...Alright. Thank you.” In another hour the meal was finished and they had gotten past the worst of it. Adrian hoped his father wouldn’t break his promise. But he wasn’t so sure.

When they were in the backseat of the Rolls Royce, heading uptown, Dracula called his wife. Adrian played with the sleeve of his fur coat, leaning against the side of the car, feeling like he was back in high school. His cheek pressed up against the window. All he could see was traffic outside the window so he looked up at the sparkly roof instead, watching the fake stars twinkle above him. Fake stars and fake smiles. Highschool in a nutshell.

“Hi, honey. Yes, I did. We’re in the city. I took him to dinner. Now we’re heading to the apartment. I promised I'd spend tomorrow with him. I’ll come out and see you tomorrow. I’m not sure if Adrian’s coming with me.”

“I’ll come.”

“He said he’s coming… Yes, I did… No. He’s not… I don’t think so. We’ll see. Yes, I did... We'll talk about it when we get home, okay? I'll see you soon- we'll see you soon, dear. Goodnight. Love you." He hung up the phone.

"You can tell your mother about your change of major tomorrow. I'm sure she'll come around. I'll help. And I can give you some of my programming books, so you can start learning C+ and Java. You'll pick those languages up quickly, son. I'm sure of it." The car paused just in front of Park Avenue and Adrian stared out at the traffic, feeling trapped, confined, and unable to move. Stuck. Claustrophobic. Cars and taxis surrounded him, the honking loud in his ears. He sighed, his gold eyes fixed on the sidewalk, and fantasized about getting out of the car. Running down the street. Running away from it all.

A/N: Please review! Thanks for reading


	19. Deceptions and Denials

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dracula tries to get what he wants. Adrian and Lisa don't make it easy for him.  
> Sypha and Adrian have a discussion.

**CHAPTER 19: Deceptions and Denials**

* * *

Lisa’s outfit: 

Top[ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/women/etro-keyhole-detail-long-sleeve-blouse-item-15399669.aspx?storeid=12061 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/women/etro-keyhole-detail-long-sleeve-blouse-item-15399669.aspx?storeid=12061)

Jeans[ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/women/jacquemus-le-de-nimes-jeans-item-15195516.aspx?storeid=9319 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/women/jacquemus-le-de-nimes-jeans-item-15195516.aspx?storeid=9319)

Low Heels[ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/women/manolo-blahnik-maysale-suede-pumps-item-15849397.aspx?storeid=9885 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/women/manolo-blahnik-maysale-suede-pumps-item-15849397.aspx?storeid=9885)

* * *

**The Tepes home: “Château de Lumiere”**

**Website:** [ https://www.ttrsir.com/eng/sales/detail/279-l-905-gh2dm9/chateau-de-lumiere-great-falls-va-22066 ](https://www.ttrsir.com/eng/sales/detail/279-l-905-gh2dm9/chateau-de-lumiere-great-falls-va-22066)

**Video Tour:** <https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yivh6Ifz76s>

Second Video Tour (multiple cinematographers): [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4gQFGsB0VQw&t=107s](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4gQFGsB0VQw&t=107s)

The location of this house in real life is Virginia, but in my story, the location is Rye, Westchester County, NY.

* _I spent a ridiculous amount of time picking the perfect house for the Tepes family, so please go and watch the video if you have a moment. Thank you_ *

* * *

Rain pattered lightly against the car window Adrian was looking through. The sky had been grey all day. But Adrian didn’t particularly mind. He liked cloudy weather because it was much more comfortable for his very light-sensitive eyes. And it suited his mood, anyway. After a somewhat uncomfortable but otherwise calm day with his father in the city, they got back into the Rolls Royce Phantom and Vlad’s driver took them to their mansion in Westchester, north of the city. It took just under an hour with traffic. Adrian went on his phone, looking at his comments, replying to modeling recruitment messages, and texting with Sypha. 

[gf]

Sypha (4:47 pm) hey cutie what are you up to? Wanna hang out?

Adrian (4:48 pm) Hey, Sypha. Sorry, I can’t today. I’m with my dad right now. I have some family stuff to deal with before I go back to Rochester. I’m in the car with my dad. We’re heading home to our house in Rye. When I come back, we can hang out, okay?

Sypha (5:01 pm) Okay. Are you alright? 

Adrian (5:02 pm) Yeah, I’m alright. I’ll tell you about it when I get back. I miss you

Sypha (5:03 pm) I miss you too …. have a good night *kiss emoji*

Adrian (5:04 pm) You, too! *kiss emoji*

“Texting your girlfriend?” Vlad asked, looking over at Adrian as he typed away on his CTC phone, a brief smile flashing across his face. Adrian looked over at him.

“Uh, yeah.”

“How is she?” 

“She’s good. I wish I could see her this weekend, but, oh well. I’ll see her at class tomorrow.” Vlad searched his face.

“Yes. And next weekend you can spend time with her.”

“Are we going out tonight? For dinner?” Adrian asked. His father shook his head. For once, he didn’t have his phone or a tablet in his hand. He was simply looking around the car and out the window at the pleasant, but dreary scenery. 

“No, not tonight. Jean can cook for us. I told him we’ll be eating together.” 

“Okay.” Jean was one person in Adrian’s life who always showed up. His family’s private chef.

“He said he’s making salmon with some sort of soup and a salad, is that alright with you?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay,” Vlad looked out the window and Adrian stared at him. Despite the mildness and the relative mundanity of the conversation, Adrian could tell his father was thinking seriously about something. He cracked his back and took a deep breath, eyes flickering around. 

“Dad?” He turned.

“Hmm?”

“Is something wrong?” Adrian asked cautiously. Their driver was in the front seat.

“No, no” he said quickly, “Nothing’s wrong.”

“...are you dreading going home?” Adrian whispered. Vlad snapped to look at him.

“No. Of course not,” he refused the idea, and then began staring out the window again. Dracula was usually always on his phone. Checking messages, responding to emails, reading the news and surveying the stock market. He never usually sat idle. If he didn’t have a phone or tablet in his hands he usually would have a book. It was odd for him to sit and look out the window in silence. Adrian wondered if his father had possibly understated the amount of friction in his marriage, or if everything he had said was simply a ruse. His father was quite an outstanding liar, and his lies were complex and interwoven, with many different reasons and motives behind them. Adrian had learned years ago that his Dracula said what he wanted to say, not necessarily what was the truth. His mind was constantly in gear. Always thinking of outcomes and future events, guiding people, moving them to the end goals that he wanted. He always thought that if his father wasn’t so misanthropic, he would make an excellent politician. Suddenly Vlad snapped back to face him once more, sharp eyes suddenly focused and concentrated. He relaxed his face, his dark brows straightening and the lines between his forehead smoothing out. 

“Your mother may not be happy about this turn of events.”

Adrian blinked, pressing his lips together.

“Maybe not.”

“Mm…” he looked at Adrian contemplatively for a moment, “She’ll come around, though. You’ll love programming. You can really embrace your creative side. It’ll be good for you.”

“Okay,” was Adrian’s curt reply.

Soon as they had passed through the rod iron gates and driven up the elegant private drive, they stepped out of the car and entered the mansion through the massive bronze doors in front. The Tepes mansion was made to resemble an antique french chateau, with a beautiful yet imposing exterior and interior. It was composed of white stone with an elegant grey roof and an array of large windows. Around the house, there was an immaculate Jardin à la française, a garden in the style of the Palace of Versailles. Spring was just beginning so the landscapers were beginning to work on the gardens more regularly, planting roses and other flowers. Various sculptures and potted plants decorated the front, lining the brick courtyard.

The driver dropped them off at the entrance. Vlad never liked to enter the house through the garage. His driver took Adrian and Vlad’s bags inside without being told to do so and followed behind them. When they entered the mansion Adrian greeted the dogs that came running to meet them. Their claws clacked and scraped on the perfectly polished white tile floor as they rushed to greet their owners in a flurry of movement. A loud barrage of happy barks filled the air, echoing the tall two-story foyer. One was a large black and white Malamute, another a black German Shepherd, and the last a gorgeous white Samoyed. Lily, Hades, and Aurum, respectively. 

Adrian kneeled down to pet them all and tried not to get licked all over his face in the process. He hadn’t been home in a while and so they demanded his attention. Vlad gave his pitch-black German Shepherd a little attention but he quickly moved past the foyer and into the rotunda. The interior of the mansion was in the old French style, yet it incorporated some distinctly American stylistic and architectural elements. Vlad peered up at the circular wrap-around balcony on the second floor. The rotunda was set in white and gold, with immaculate finishings and fine craftsmanship. A priceless chandelier hung from the ceiling of the rotunda, glittering white. The rod iron railings on all the balconies were black with motifs and floral decorations painted in gold leaf. 

“Lisa?” Vlad called out into the large two-story space, “We’re home, dear.” Vlad waited at the bottom of the rotunda as his driver went up the staircase carrying their luggage. He took off his coat and hung it in the closet. Adrian walked into the house and stood next to his father, the dogs following him. He put away his coat as well.

“Lisa?” Vlad called out again, and then she stepped out onto the balcony in the rotunda, looking down at them.

“Oh, hello!” She stepped down the stairs, looking classically beautiful in a wine-colored keyhole blouse and dark jeans. Her black Manolo Blahnik heels clicked as she walked down the steps. Adrian noticed that she moved past his father in favor of him.

“Hi, sweetheart! How are you? I’m so glad you’re home,” she hugged him warmly and Adrian hugged her back. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he smiled. She smelled wonderful. Adrian always missed that smell when he was away, the smell of her perfume. Vlad stepped over to her and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek briefly. 

“Hello, dear.”

“Hello,” she responded more apathetically than usual, glancing at him only for a moment before she focused back on her son. There was an obvious lingering tension that Lisa ignored, grabbing Adrian’s arm and pulling him along with her.

“Are you hungry, hon? Jean’s fixing dinner, I thought we could eat in the dining room.”

“Sure.”

“And then maybe later we could watch a movie or something? I’m in the mood to watch something good. Maybe we can finally watch something on our bucket list.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

Vlad watched them walk off towards the kitchen and stared at their backs, gritting his teeth. He sighed through his nose as they left him behind. His dog was the only one to stay back with him, the other two running along. He knelt down to pet the dog, scratching him behind the ears.

“You still love me, Hades, don’t you?” The black German Shepherd responded by barking happily and licking his cheek. Vlad gave him a scratch and a small smile.

“I thought so.” He sighed again and went into the kitchen, trailing after his wife and son. Soon dinner was served by their private chef in the dining room. It was a large room with architecture in the chateau-style, same as the rest of the house. But the painted panels on the walls were Japanese inspired depictions of cherry blossoms. White flowers on gold leaf paint background. The grand stone fireplace was lit, making the room a bit cozier despite its large size. They sat at the long dining table together, Vlad at the head of the table with Lisa and Adrian on either side. They ate off fine china. 

The first course was a halloumi and couscous pomegranate salad. Adrian had been speaking with his mother for a while but then he grew quieter, and Lisa had to either include Vlad in the discussion or forgo a conversation altogether. She smiled briefly at her husband who was looking at her, his eyes filled with subtle longing. Then she sighed lightly and looked between them. She tried to swallow her anger at Vlad and move past their previous argument. He said he would change. And Lisa couldn't argue with that at the moment. He was sitting at the table eating with them. She hadn’t seen him go on his phone even once since they got home. But that wasn’t always a good sign.

“So, how was your day in the city?”

“It was nice. We walked around Central Park, and caught up with each other. I took him to the Plaza for breakfast. We both enjoyed it.” Vlad nodded slowly.

“This morning dad was reading the paper and he came across an article about himself,” Adrian chuckled, finding it a bit funny. Lisa looked at her husband.

“Oh, really? What paper?”

“The New York Times. It was just a small piece about the company and worker conditions, that sort of thing.”

“Hm. Was it unflattering? Was it a critical piece?”

“Well, everything today is critical to some extent. Someone’s always going to find something to be mad about. But, it was fine.” He shrugged it off.

“Okay.” She drank some of her wine, looking back at Adrian. Something was off, she just wasn’t sure exactly what or why.

“We got massages,” Vlad tried to add to the conversation, playing a little with the pomegranate in his bowl. Lisa nodded, taking a bite of her own salad.

“Good, good.” The only sound was the grandfather clock in the foyer and light movement of the housekeeping staff in the other parts of the mansion. Adrian just pushed his food around, not particularly interested.

“What did you do, mom?”

“This morning? I just relaxed a little, took the dogs on a walk. Read some of my book. And I met up with my friend Anna for lunch.”

“Where’d you go?”

“Ruby’s. It was very nice. I like that place.”

A pause. Vlad looked between his son and his wife and sat up straight.

“Lisa, I think Adrian has something he should tell you.”

“Oh?” She raised her blonde brows, “What’s that?”

“Uh,” he looked to his mother, “I have a girlfriend. Sypha. You met her at the wedding reception.”

“Oh! That’s wonderful, honey. Brilliant! I’m so happy for you,” she smiled, laughing a little. That wasn’t what she expected from the tense air between them.

“Thank you.” Adrian smiled lightly and reached towards the wine bottle.

“Mom, am I allowed to have a glass?”

“Yes, of course, go ahead.” She smiled as he poured a glass of white wine for himself. Vlad glared at the table, totally still for a moment. 

“How’s it going with her?”

“Really well,” Adrian glanced at his father before nodding. “Yeah, it’s going well.”

“Good for you, hon.”

“Yes... it’s great,” Vlad nodded, “but that wasn’t the news I meant, actually.” Adrian deliberately said nothing, looking at his father with a confused scowl, feigning incomprehension. 

“What is it?” Lisa asked. Adrian kept his mouth shut and so Vlad decided to turn to his wife and tell her the news.

“Adrian decided to switch his major.”

“What?” She startled, looking at Adrian with wide eyes. He simply looked at the wine glass in silence and took a sip. Then he looked up at his father for a brief moment and met his pressuring gaze. A strange silence passed. Lisa scowled and looked between them in confusion.

“Adrian? What is he talking about? What are you switching to?”

Adrian’s gold eyes flicked over to his father briefly before looking back down at his plate, not meeting his mother’s strong gaze.

“...computer science.”

“Computer science?!” Lisa tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowed, “Why?”

Adrian blinked up at her and turned to his father, saying nothing. 

“Why?!” She repeated, her voice growing louder and clearly upset. Adrian looked weak on purpose, diverting his eyes meekly. Vlad inhaled in anticipation as Lisa put two and two together, the gears turning in her mind as her eyes narrowed on her husband. She glared at him when she saw a flicker of fear on his features, her nostrils flaring in contempt. Her voice lowered into something more dangerous and definitively pissed off.

“Dracula Vladislav Tepes. Do not tell me that you pressured Adrian into changing his major _two years_ into his degree.”

“I didn’t pressure him,” Vlad tried to soothe her, “I just gently recommended that he might want to.”

“Gently recommended? Gently-?! _Urgh_ ,” she growled in exasperation, her heartbeat increasing, full of anger and strike.

“Now, Lisa, it was clear that he wasn’t enjoying his courses. I thought maybe he would do better in computer science, and it’s a creative process. I think that would be more suited to him-”

“More _suited to him?_ ” She snapped, eyes fiercely focused on Vlad.

“He said he wanted to do it!” Vlad raised his voice too, trying to divert the blame onto Adrian. Lisa looked back at her son but when she saw his demure and slightly frightened expression, gold eyes cautiously watching his father, she faltered.

“Did you tell him that? Did you tell him ‘I want to study computer programming’?” 

“No,” Adrian mumbled, “...I just said ‘okay.’” Lisa snapped back to Vlad, who was glaring at Adrian in frustration. 

“You son of a bitch,” Lisa’s voice held anger, “You think you can get away with this? Are _fucking kidding me_ , Vlad?” She huffed, her chest rising and falling quickly. Vlad scowled at her.

“There’s no need to curse, Lisa, please calm down.”

“ _No. You need to shut up._ That’s what you need to do. Do you honestly think you can _do this to him?_ I can’t believe you. He’s been studying neuroscience for _two years!_ Two fucking years! Now you want him to switch? And you try to intro that with ‘Adrian has something he wants to tell you’? What the _fuck_ is your problem?!”

“Lisa, calm down. Darling. It’s not that big of a-” he raised his arms, trying to calm her.

“It’s not a _big deal_ ? It’s his future career! It’s his _whole life._ We went over this for weeks two summers ago and he decided on Neuroscience. _You agreed to it!_ You can’t swoop in two years later and make him switch his major- switch his _career_ \- to something else because you want him to! It’s his life. And he chose Neuroscience. _God!_ The audacity you have to do something like that, just because you know he’s too afraid to go against you.”

“Lisa, that’s not true!” Vlad scowled.

“What’s not true? What?” She snapped. Vlad huffed.

“He’s not afraid of me at all. He just went along with it. I heard him talk about how he doesn’t like his classes very much and I suggested it, _right Adrian?_ ” Vlad desperately tried to pull in Adrian’s support but he just stared blankly at his father.

“Um, what?” He blinked repeatedly, only a slight frown on his youthful face.

“Don’t ‘um, what’ me. You were there. You said you don’t like your current classes, isn’t that right? And then I suggested a change of major?” He gave Adrian a serious look and he nodded, lips pressed tight.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“ _See?_ ” Vlad defended himself, looking back at Lisa.

“Did you really say that, or is he putting words in your mouth?” She asked with concern for her son. Adrian looked up at her and took a long sip of wine.

“I don’t particularly enjoy my classes. The only class I like right now is French.”

“What? Argh… well, why didn’t you say something to me?” She asked. Adrian sighed through his nose.

“What for?” 

“ _What?_ ”

“Why should I bother saying anything about that?” He shrugged, looking apathetic. Vlad and Lisa both scowled.

“What do you mean? Of course, you should tell me if you’re not enjoying your classes. What, you think _I don’t care? Of course, I care!_ ” Adrian shifted, looking up at her.

“What I mean is- what’s the point? I can’t do what I want, anyway.”

“ _Adrian,_ ” she sighed sadly, looking at his pained and distant expression. Vlad pinched his temple. “ _Of course_ we want you to do what you want.”

“That’s not what he means, Lisa,” Vlad muttered in resigned annoyance.

“What does he mean?” She wondered.

“Well, he told me. He would rather do computer programming than neurosurgery. He said he doesn’t like the labs and he wouldn’t enjoy performing surgery.”

“Wha-? Adrian?” She looked back at her son with concern again. He stared at the table. They waited for him to answer and eventually he just pushed back in his chair, ready to leave.

“Look, will you two please just agree on whatever it is you want me to do and tell me when you decide?” He stood up and left the table abruptly, taking his wine glass with him. 

“No. We want you to be involved in this. Please,” Lisa tried to absolve him but he kept walking so she turned to her husband, “ _Vlad! Talk to him!_ ”

“ _You talk to him!_ He clearly doesn’t want to do the job you pushed on him.”

“What _I pushed on him?!_ He sounded interested in his future career and happy about it until today! Until _you_ started manipulating him, tricking him into changing his major. I can’t _believe you_ ! You’re so fucking selfish sometimes, Vlad. He spent two years studying neuro and now you want to throw all that knowledge away. _Years_ of wasted time. Two whole years of his life _wasted_ !” She stood suddenly, gesturing to the hall but Adrian had already walked off. “What about what _he_ wants to do?” That struck a nerve in Vlad and he gave her a defensive look.

“ _I care what he wants to do!_ ” he shot back, “Who do you think pays for everything? All of his classes and those artist camps? His apartment? Who do you think went to his college yesterday and spoke with his professors? _I did._ I care about him. And his future.”

“You care about getting him to do what _you want_ by any means necessary, including making him take the blame for something you did! _You asshole!_ ” her pretty face scrunched up on anger, “You were really trying to get me to yell at him! I can’t believe you,” she yelled again, storming off in a rage with Vlad following behind quickly. He had worried she would react the way she was. 

“Lisa! Lisa!” She rushed up the stairs, following Adrian, and sneered at Vlad when he got her to turn around, regarding him with a fierce scowl.

“Darling, I do care about him,” Vlad tried to soothe her, “I love him very much. I just realized how unhappy he was with his current major and suggested a switch. Why am I being yelled at so much here? What did I do to deserve all of this?” Lisa stopped in her tracks, turning on her heel. She raised a dangerous eyebrow at Vlad, blue eyes enraged.

“What did you do? What did you do?” She repeated quickly in disbelief, “You left us for a month! A month! I could barely reach you, you ignored most of my calls, and all of Adrian’s, it seems. You put things up online but you didn’t respond to my texts without reason. You canceled my birthday trip! You didn’t show up to Adrian’s event at Carnegie Hall! You made us both feel terrible. We just kept waiting for you and you didn’t show up. And now you come home out of nowhere and the first thing you do is try to manipulate Adrian into switching his major when he’s _two fucking years_ into his studies! Because _you_ want him to, and for no other real reason. You promised me you wouldn’t be like this anymore, Vlad! You _promised!_ ” she nearly screamed at him before running back up the stairs. 

“Lisa, I’m sorry.” Vlad breathed heavily, following just behind her, not sure how he was going to drag himself out the hole he had gotten himself into. “Dear, I’m sorry I went away. I had to go, I didn’t want to leave you. Please, stop.” He pleaded, but she ignored him.

“Adrian!” Lisa called, moving through the hallway and trying to find him. Vlad followed behind her up, walking out onto the second floor of the rotunda. They found Adrian in the sitting room near his bedroom, drinking his wine alone on the couch. He was looking out the window pensively. Lisa approached him, sitting on the couch beside him and touching his shoulder. 

“Adrian, honey, look at me.” He did, gaze moving between them. “I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to feel like this. Not at all. Please talk to me. What’s the issue with your classes? Just tell the truth.”

“I don’t like them,” he sighed, “I don’t enjoy them. Or my major.”

“Why?” She frowned, taking his hand.

“Why?” Adrian scowled, wondering if she was playing dumb, “I don’t want to be a doctor. I don’t really enjoy it at all. I hate chemistry. This major will never make me happy.”

“What?” She huffed, unhappy and concerned at the same time, “Really?”

“It’s just not for me, mom. I don’t like it. I’m not really interested in medicine at all, I told you that years ago. I’m sorry but it’ll never make me happy. It’s just a job for me.” Lisa was disappointed and sad to hear him speak about her field that way, but she didn’t pressure him to stick with it. She didn’t want him to be unhappy. She sighed, looking down and trying to relax.

“Wha- What do you want to do?”

“Be an artist,” he answered easily, immediately, “That’s what I’ve always wanted and I’ve told you both that a hundred times.” He glanced at his father briefly.

“You want an art degree?” 

“Yes.” He confirmed and Lisa looked back at Vlad in exasperation. He was standing behind them, arms crossed. She glared at her husband, putting her hands up in a gesture that meant she was giving up. 

“You heard what he wants to do, Vlad. If he wants to get an art degree then let him get a fucking art degree. That’s what he wants to do for a career.” Vlad pressed his lips together and slowly shook his head, stepping forward.

“He’s being childish. That’s not a real job. Not a decent, respectable job. He needs to pick something else.” Lisa groaned at him.

“Why?” she huffed loudly, “Why can’t you let him have it? You’re making him miserable by not letting him do what he wants.”

“I’m making him miserable?” he snapped back at her, “You’re the one who put him a major he just told you he _hates_. And you want to make him stay in it. I’m offering a change.” Lisa stood up and stomped towards him. Adrian watched them fight. In a way he found it funny because his mother was so small and weak next to his father, a tall, menacing figure with broad shoulders and an intimidating stature. But Lisa was never scared of him. If anything, Vlad was scared of her. She always stood up for herself.

“ _I didn’t put him in it!_ You offered him three options for a career and told him to pick one. Computer programmer, business executive, or a doctor. That’s all you gave him. _I didn’t put that on him!_ I never said he had to choose one of those for a career- that was you! How dare you try to put that on me?! You narcissistic son of a bitch.”

“Lisa, please,” he pleaded, touching her arms and she pushed him off.

“No, go away.” Adrian got off the couch and moved away from them, watching them from a distance. His father was getting annoyed at his mother by this point, his face growing more serious and frustrated.

“Lisa, I’m trying to help this family-” he warned in a low voice.

“ _No!_ You’re trying to help yourself. Pushing him into a career he doesn't want, trying to trick him into working at CTC. He doesn’t want to! Stop trying to make him.”

“I want _what’s best_ for him. And he doesn’t want to be a doctor.” Lisa pushed his 

“He doesn’t want to be a programmer either! You don’t give a shit about what’s best for him. You know what would be best for him? Letting him be a goddamn artist! Like he’s always wanted to be. And you’ve always said no for no other reason than your own pride. Because when people ask you what your son does you don’t want to say he’s a struggling artist, you want to say that he’s a programmer or a doctor or a CEO. He’s not your accessory! He’s our kid!” As their screams grew louder and their body language more violent Adrian scooted back farther and farther towards the edge of the room, ready to leave at any moment. He briefly considered taking his mother’s Range Rover and driving off, leaving them to battle it out by themselves.

“I know he is! I do care about what’s best for him! I don’t want him to waste his life!” Vlad yelled at her. Adrian watched one of the housekeepers scurry past, out of the East wing and down the stairs, like a rat deserting a sinking ship. He felt inclined to follow, inching into the hallway, ready to dart out.

“Waste his life? Waste his life?! He would be wasting his life working for you at CTC, having every moment of his life dictated by you, never finding out what he wants or who he is! That would be wasting his life.”

“I know what I’m doing. Other people have no idea about how to raise their kids. They let them do whatever they want and half of them end up staying at their parent’s house for years, accomplishing nothing. Lots of them end up with some bullshit degree like communications or entertainment management. Do you know how he’d end up if I let him do an art degree? Either an unmotivated failure or how all the other great modern artists ended up- _an addict!_ A chain-smoking alcoholic - _or worse!_ On heroin. Or methamphetamine.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” She shook her head and shouted up at him. Vlad regarded her with a serious glare.

“Warhol was addicted to Obitrol. Kinkade: Alcohol and Valium. Vincent Van Gogh: Absinthe and Digitalis. Jackson Pollock: Alcohol. Picasso: Opium. Rothko: Alcohol. Salvadore Dali: LSD. The list goes on and on. I don’t want our son to have become some drug-addicted lowlife. I want him to have a proper, respectable job and contribute to society in a beneficial way. And not end up dead in a ditch or slit his wrists and bleed out on the floor... That’s what Rothko did. Overdosed on barbiturates and killed himself with a razor blade. What good being an artist did him! I don’t want our son to be like them. I want him to be better than that. Have a better life than that. Why do you think I do all this? Send him to the best schools? Give him the best tutors? The best fencers and violin teachers? I want him to have a good life!” Vlad finished ranting and stopped talking, breath coming out in angry huffs. Lisa looked at him a little differently, considering what he was saying. She stepped back, saying nothing, thinking. Vlad tried to hold her, touching her shoulder gently.

“I love him. I do want the best for him... And he doesn’t want to be a doctor, Lisa.” She just stared at him and Vlad looked back to where Adrian was hiding at the edge of the room. He sighed.

“Come here, son. Please, come to me,” he pleaded, exhausted, and Adrian came to him carefully. He held Adrian by the shoulders.

“I love you very much. I don’t want you to fall prey to the things that inflict suffering in many artists. I know you’re creative. And I know not every artist ends up this way, but many of them do.” When Adrian rolled his eyes Vlad pressed on, “Son. I’m not making any of this up, if you didn’t know that already please look it up for yourself. Come on, now. I’ll support your art, but not for a career. As a hobby. How about we enroll you in an advanced drawing class? Would that make you happy?” He sighed. 

“I want you to pursue your passions, son, but in a safe way. I think life as an artist is too philosophically challenging for most people. They struggle to try to find the meaning of life with a paintbrush. It’s a slippery slope. You know why I have rules for you about drugs. Why I forbid you from smoking marijuana or taking any prescriptions. It’s a dangerous path and one thing can easily lead to another, especially in a college environment. I’ve seen friends fall from very successful lives that way. I don’t want you tempted by those things, I don’t want to see you fall like that. You remember being in high school in the city, seeing all those classmates of yours struggle with alcoholism and drug abuse. I don’t want you to fall prey to that. I want you to have a good life,” Adrian stared down and Vlad tipped his head up, “We can work this out, my boy. We can find a compromise, okay? Something better for you. I do not want you to be miserable... I love you.” Adrian met his gaze, unable to counter that and lacking the desire to try. He just nodded.

“Come here,” Vlad muttered tiredly, pulling him in and holding him against his chest. Adrian closed his eyes, relaxing in his dad’s embrace. One he used to know quite well. He felt like he was being cuddled by a bear. His father was much taller and broader across the chest. Vlad touched the crown of his head gently. 

“What does a compromise mean?” Lisa asked. Adrian joined her on the couch.

“Something that you enjoy that I also think is wise. I suppose it doesn’t have to be computer programming, son. But it has to be something that will keep you grounded. I worry about you becoming an artist. Especially because you struggle with depression. I don’t want to make a mistake that I’ll never forgive myself for.” Adrian stepped away, sighing.

“An art degree isn’t a death sentence.”

“No, but it’s not necessarily good for a person. And I don’t think it would be a good career for you. You heard what I said about all those artists and their drug addictions, didn’t you?” Adrian crossed his arms.

“...Yes,” he mumbled unhappily.

“I don’t want you to struggle with that. I’m serious when I say I don’t want you taking any drugs. I mean it. No marijuana, no smoking of any kind. No pills. Nothing.”

“Okay.”

“But for your career, I think we can find something that we both like. And your mother can give her input, too.”

“All I want is for Adrian to be happy.”

“Alright. You can try something else out if you really hate programming. You could try engineering, maybe aerospace engineering. You liked space when you were a child. Remember I bought you that huge telescope for your bedroom. And I took you to NASA.”

“Aerospace engineering? You mean- rocket science?” Adrian raised a brow at him.

“Yeah.” Vlad found it a suitable field.

“No, thanks.” Adrian tried not to scoff. 

“What about AI? Robotics with AI? That way you could combine your neuroscience knowledge with technology?” Vlad tried to think of things and Adrian just shot them down.

“No way. No. Definitely not.” Vlad blinked at him.

“Why not?”

“I don’t believe in creating AI. Ethically. Especially not with robots. I think it’s too dangerous to play god like that.” He stood his ground. His father made a low noise, rubbing his temples in frustration.

“Well, what do you want to do? You could be a lawyer or something. A professor, even. I’m flexible to your suggestions.” Adrian thought about it.

“...I suppose programming is the best thing that I’m allowed to do. I would rather be an artist or a film student. Or even a foreign language major, but I don’t think you’d let me do any of those.” Vlad gave him a tired, annoyed look.

“What the _hell_ do you do with a film degree? Critique movies?”

“Make movies,” he grunted unhappily. Vlad shook his head.

“Oh. Well, no. I don’t think so. And what would you do with a language major? Be a translator?” He thought it was a strange thing to want to do.

“Maybe.” Adrian shrugged.

“Why would anyone want to do that?” Adrian sat down on the couch.

“Never mind, Dad,” he sighed, reaching for his wine glass and finishing it off, “Programming it is.” Vlad looked to Lisa.

“ _See?_ This is what I mean,” he critiqued. Adrian’s eyes went wide.

“ _Oh my god._ I had _one_ glass of wine! I’m not an alcoholic.” Vlad exhaled sharply.

“Not yet, anyway. And if you became an art major you’d probably be one in a couple of weeks.”

“Oh, God.” Lisa touched her son’s hand, feeling bad for him.

“Do you even like programming, Adrian?” She asked him. He shrugged.

“Sometimes. I’m good at it.” Vlad took that and went with it.

“Sometimes, see? That’s good. And you’ll like it more when you get a better grasp of the languages. When you can really create something of your own. And you’ll get to be creative. You can create the actual programming of the technology we make, which will help people. It makes their lives easier, it makes their daily tasks easier and more efficient. You can do great things with technology, son. You can help me do better things with technology. You know I value your input, especially because of your young age. And your intelligence. And your fresh perceptive.”

“Okay.” Adrian was tired. He leaned back against the couch, giving up. Vlad considered him, seeing his defeated expression.

“But you don’t have to work for the company. If you want to do something else, go ahead. I’m not going to make you work for me. I know you don’t really want to.”

“Can I have that in writing?” Adrian droned comically. Vlad chuckled slowly. But Lisa didn’t find it amusing.

“Adrian, listen to me,” she said, “Don’t let him make you do anything you don’t want to do. Or me, for that matter. Just tell us what you want. If you want to take the semester off and think about it, that’s okay with me.”

“Mm,” Vlad made a low noise, “I don’t think he needs to do that. He can just cut his science classes and stick with the rest. He’s already a month into the semester. He shouldn't drop everything.” Adrian looked between his parents with tired eyes.

“I don’t have to drop out, Mom. I’ll be okay.”

“Well, why don’t you try programming for now, and if you don’t like it, we can work something else out? Okay?” She stroked his arm affectionately.

“Okay.”

“And I’ll enroll you in an art class. If you want.”

“Next semester. For now, I can just draw on my own.”

“Sure.” Vlad stood before them, feeling guilt for his long absence. 

“I’m sorry I left you alone for so long. Both of you. I promise I’ll stay.” He sat beside his wife, on the other side.

“Lisa, dear, come here,” he pleaded, sitting next to his wife. Adrian noticed tears in his mother’s pretty blue eyes. Vlad tried to hold her but she didn’t hug him back, she just went limp in his arms. He smoothed her pretty blonde hair, cupping her cheek.

“I know I hurt you.” Blonde hair fell in front of her eyes and Vlad brushed it away.

“Yes, you did… and I think you’re guilty about it.” He sighed and kissed her temple.

“I am. I’m sorry, my love. I was away from you for too long. Both of you. But I’m here now. I’ll stay here. Okay?”

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“I’ll stay here. At home. I’ll take off a few days from work if you want. I don’t care. Or I’ll work from home. You can take some days off. I’ll cancel my business trip on Thursday. I mean it. I want to stay.” Lisa regarded him with sadness in her eyes.

“Staying here doesn’t magically solve anything. What you need to do is stop being an asshole,” she sighed. Adrian tried not to laugh, his lips twitching. Vlad narrowed his eyes and made a face.

“Can you be more specific, love?”

“Stop controlling everyone. Stop manipulating people. Just - live your life, and try to care about what other people are going through, us especially. I know you think you know better than everyone but acting that way will just make everyone hate you. You know that. Why do you think you were single for twenty years before I met you? No one could stand to be with you. You’re too controlling and mean.” Vlad stilled at that. He looked offended by the statement, as was intended. Lisa blinked up at him.

“You need to apologize to him now, Vlad. Really apologize. I mean it.”

“I already did.” He scowled.

“Apologize for what you just did. You tricked Adrian into changing majors and then you tried to get me to yell at him even though you were the one manipulating him… Don’t deny it. I know you did. I know you very well.”

“I’m sorry,” he almost whimpered, and Lisa stared at him, watching his face. He looked down in shame. “I didn’t want you to yell at me. But obviously, it didn’t work.”

“Let me make one thing very clear- our son is not to be the subject of your manipulation. Strangers, I don’t really care. Not him. You are to leave him alone. I don’t give a shit what your reasons are. If you want something from him, if you want him to do something, you need to tell him what it is point blank and wait for a response. No trickery, no conniving. No lies. Tell the truth and he doesn’t want to do it, convince him or drop it. Same goes for me.”

“Okay.” He nodded.

“Say ‘yes, I’ll do it.’” Lisa’s bravery and strength never ceased to amaze. Vlad pursed his lips.

“Yes, I’ll do it.”

“Look me in the eye.” She made him do it.

“I promise. I’m sorry.” A moment passed and she dropped the ‘tough mom’ face.

“Okay. I believe you. Don’t make me regret it, or…”

“What?”

“I’ll leave. We’ll both leave. We don’t have to put up with that. That kind of behavior. Leaving us for so long and then coming back and manipulating us. We don’t have to put up with it. I don’t have to put up with you being so neglectful.” Vlad was getting more and more frustrated, almost ready to give up.

“ _Jesus._ I’m sorry, Lisa. But I wasn’t lying when I said that I was unable to get away from it all. Please believe me, I didn’t want to miss your birthday trip. I didn’t want to make you cancel it. I had to… we were in _disaster_ mode. I should have reached out more, I know that, I just felt- completely preoccupied with it all. It was an insane few weeks. I was… _about to snap_. From the stress of it all. Please understand, the last things on my mind were a concert and a vacation... I should have stated that more obviously.” He held his head in his hands, exhausted.

“Vlad, what happened?” She asked, wondering what it was that was stressing her husband out so much. Adrian sat up to look at him.

“Yeah, Dad, what happened?” Vlad sighed and thought about it for a while before answering. He looked up at them.

“...we stopped World War III from happening.” 

Lisa and Adrian looked at each other seriously for a moment, almost in disbelief.

“Are you joking?”

“No. Trump kept taunting the Iranians. We truly almost entered a World War. America did, I mean. Not _The Order_. But we ended up being the ones to keep him from-” he sighed, “nevermind, I can’t- I can’t talk about any of it.” Vlad pulled off his tie in exhaustion and held it in his hand. He peered over to his son with lidded eyes.

“But Adrian, I’m sorry I was so mean to you yesterday. I shouldn’t have said your concert didn’t matter. And… I shouldn’t have tried to force programming on you. I should have done that differently I just... _Fuck_ ,” he sighed agian, and Adrian scowled. His father never swore. Lisa rubbed his back, feeling how stressed he was. 

“I’ve just been trying to keep everything together, and,” he sucked in a breath,   
“it’s hard. This has been really hard to deal with.”

“Keeping the whole world together?” Adrian huffed, eyebrows raised.

“Yup.” He sounded completely drained. Lisa’s face shifted to one of concern. She grabbed her husband’s large shoulders.

“Sit back, baby,” Lisa pulled him back, not angry at him anymore. She unbuttoned the top few buttons on his dress shirt. She rubbed his shoulders a bit. Adrian thought about it. He wondered if it was just another convenient excuse.

“Are you telling the truth?”

“Yes. I imagine you may hear about it in the next few days. One of his staffers is bound to blab to the press. Especially given his turnover rate. A few staffers already resigned after this. I heard one of them might go to CNN and tell the story. What they think the story is, anyway. We spent a whole week containing it but a couple got out of our grasp. People are bound to find out. The DOW may drop a little, given how- well, you know how he is.” By ‘he’ Vlad meant Donald Trump, the President of the United States.

“He’s _totally insane_ , isn’t he? Why is he like that?” Lisa shook her head.

“I think it’s a combination of cocaine, Adderall, dementia, and psychopathy.”

“Wow. Ah… But everything’s better now?”

“Yes. I was with- well, I can’t say. I can’t talk about it. Don’t relay any of this to anyone or I’ll be in serious trouble. Please.” Lisa stroked his hair and his cheek.

“You sound so exhausted. Why did you let me yell at you like that?”

Vlad gave her a confused, yet depleted, look.

“What?”

“You should have just told us the truth from the beginning.”

“I told you. Both of you.”

“You didn’t say anything about World War III. If you would have led with that I would have understood why you’ve been so absent.” Vlad shook his head ‘no’.

“I’m not supposed to tell anyone. I just spent a week in D.C. doing damage control. I shouldn’t even be telling you.” He yawned.

“Relax, I’m not a blabbermouth. Neither is Adrian. Was it really bad?”

“...Yeah.”

“Sorry, that does sound really stressful. But next time text me. Say ‘Lisa, World War III is imminent and I can’t respond’ or something like that. And send a picture of Trump’s nasty face on your webcam. Then I won’t be mad at you.” Vlad chuckled at the craziness of it all. 

“I think I would be removed on the spot for doing that, my dear.” Adrian still wasn’t convinced. It seemed hard to believe.

“Are you serious about this, Dad? Are you lying?”

“No, I’m not lying, son. I promise.”

“So, when you said you were at a meeting-”

“Well, that’s not a lie. It was a meeting, but it was a _very important meeting._ I said it was important. Remember? I said I couldn’t get away.”

“But I had no idea it was _that_ important. How did you say that so calmly to me?”

“I said it calmly?” He scoffed.

“Well, I guess offhandedly would be a better word. You were really rude about it.”

“I’m sorry. I- I let the stress get to me. And I took it out on you. You didn’t deserve that. I’m sorry. I’ll say it a million times until you stop being mad at me.”

“Okay. I forgive you… I wish you would have just texted me once, Dad. Just to say ‘I’m super busy. Can’t get away. Good luck.’ or something like that. I thought you really just didn’t give a shit about me.” He looked at Adrian with pain in his eyes.

“No, that’s not true, Adrian. I am proud of you. That’s quite a prize you won. Lisa did you know he won fifty thousand dollars?” She smiled.

“Yes! I’m very proud, too. You’re so talented. What are you going to do with the money?”

“I don’t know. I was thinking of giving it to charity, maybe. Or creating a scholarship and choosing a dozen poor highschoolers, something like that. But I’m not sure yet.”

“That’s good.”

“Dad, you should have just told me about the World War III thing. I would have understood. I was so upset with you.”

“I know, but I really was not supposed to tell you anything at all. I only did just now because we got into such a horrible fight about it all. But I trust you not to say a word. You know you can’t.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve never told anyone you’re even in _The Order._ I promise.”

“Not even your girlfriend?”

“No. She doesn’t ask, either. She cares more about me than you, I’m sure.” Vlad laughed.

“Yeah, of course. That’s good.”

“Some people know, though. It’s on the internet.”

“Well, yes, it’s fine that people know I’m part of the Freemasons in terms of the general organization, I just don’t want any more details revealed. About who we really are.”

“I know.”

“Anyway, enough about _The Order._ I’m tired of it. I only said what I did so I didn’t tear our family apart by accident. But yes, that’s why I wasn’t in New York for your concert. And that’s why I missed your birthday, my love,” he reached over to grab Lisa’s hand. She accepted.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you so much. I thought maybe… maybe you were having an affair or something. It freaked me out when you wouldn’t respond for so long.”

“I was not having an affair,” he laughed dryly, “I was stuck at a conference table in the secret basement meeting rooms of the Capitol building. You can look on my phone. I was there for weeks, with very brief trips to New York for work. And I was doing work for the company in any ten second break I had. It was… awful. I slept for ten hours last night. I was so tired.”

“Wow. Okay, okay,” she gave him a kiss on the cheek, “It’s better now. It’s done.”

“Yes.”

“Well, I’m proud of you for stopping a third world war, honey. _Very proud._ Next time tell me something.”

“ _I tried to!_ I said ‘It’s _super_ classified, _extremely_ important. I can’t get away.’”

“Yes, but you should have used more urgency in your voice or something so I knew you were being serious and not blowing me off.”

“I’m not allowed to do that. I’m not supposed to tell you anything because you’re not a member.” Adrian scowled, looking at Vlad.

“Dad, do you have any proof that this is real? That this really happened?” Adrian pushed. A small part of him wondered if his father was making the whole thing up to get back on their good sides. He nodded slowly.

“Yes, I’m sure CNN put out something by now. It’s been a while, and I know at least one of Trump’s staffers was planning to quit and leak the story. Their version of the story. Let me see,” he pulled out his phone and scrolled through the new news headlines. Sure enough, the top news story of the CTC News App read ‘Whistleblower Reveals Trump Almost Attacked Iran Last Week: How His Aides Responded to the Stunning, Now Aborted Decision’. 

“ _Jesus Christ._ ”

“I’m not lying, Adrian. I would not make that up, come on.” Lisa cuddled up against him, reading the first part of the article.

“Did you talk to his aides directly?”

“I can’t talk about anything else, Lisa. I already said too much.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s forget about it. Crisis averted. I’m starving. Let’s back down and eat dinner.”

“I’m tired of this, Lisa.” He meant his jobs, both professional and otherwise.

“I know, baby,” she stroked his face and hair, “And I _really_ yelled at you.”

“You screamed at me.” He said, muffled by his hands. Lisa smirked a little.

“Well, you deserved it for the thing with Adrian. I’m not taking that back. But you apologized, so, we can drop it… but _you know_ I’m not scared of you.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You must have been so stressed.”

“My masseuse today said my shoulders felt like a slab of marble.”

“Oh, no,” she frowned, trying to massage his shoulders a little, “yeah. They do. You need to relax for a while. Can you take tomorrow off?”

“Mhmm. And I might take Monday off too. I’m so tired.”

“Yes, please take Monday off. That would be great. Let your underlings do things. I haven’t seen you in forever, and now that I’m done yelling at you we can spend time together.”

“Ah, yes, you’re finally done yelling,” he smiled lazily. Lisa kissed him on the lips. 

“Let’s go to bed. Come on.”

And with that, Adrian’s little family seemed to be back on track.

* * *

_Later that week…_

[study group ;)]

Trevor (6:09 pm) What’s better, butterfingers or reeses

Adrian (6:10 pm) Why?

Trevor (6:11 pm) I’m deciding which one I want to steal from the caf

Adrian (6:12 pm) Stop stealing things! Please! I’m going to be so pissed at you if I have to bail you out from jail one night.

Trevor (6:00 pm) Relax, prince pouty i dont think i would be sent to jail for stealing a candy bar

Sypha (6:01 pm) Trevor- no stealing! Adrian- please come over and help me with this coding HW it’s so hard

Adrian (6:03 pm) Why don’t you come to my place? Bring your stuff. You can spend the night.

* * *

Adrian smiled when he opened the door to his apartment and found Sypha grinning at him, cheeks rosy and Thai iced teas in hand. He kissed her on the lips and ushered her in, taking the iced teas to the counter as she put away her coat and threw her purse on a bench. 

“Thanks so much. I love these,” he took a sip. Sypha walked over and sat at a barstool in the kitchen. Adrian stood on the other side, drinking some of the tea.

“So, what happened this weekend? You said something was happening with your family?”

“Uh, yeah. I had a pretty dramatic weekend, actually. My dad came over on Friday and let himself in, caught me smoking on the balcony, and we had it out.”

“What?” Her eyes widened.

“We had a fight.”

“Oh.”

“About him not coming to the concert, basically being an ass and ignoring me for weeks. At first, he just said he had a meeting and couldn’t make it, which isn’t a lie, I guess, but it’s not indicative of what really happened, you know? Anyway, I screamed at him. I was so mad. I just- let it all out and yelled at him. He got defensive but then he just dropped it and said he was sorry. He apologized and said he wanted to make up for being gone so long. And I said no at first, but then I agreed. We went to the city, had dinner at a nice restaurant, and he started to talk to me about my major after a while. I said that I’m not really enjoying neuroscience after he prodded me, because I’m not, and he suggested I switch to computer science. And when I say suggested, I mean,” he flicked his eyes upwards, “strongly insisted with very subtle wording. And I didn’t fight him. I said yes. I-” he faltered.

“You what? Tell me everything, I’m here to listen.”

“I knew we were going to see my mom the next day and… I kind of planned it out. I thought if I caved and said yes, then when we got home I could have him tell my mom about it, and she’s super smart, of course, she’d figure out right away that he was pressuring me to switch, and then they’d fight over it. I was hoping I could sort of get them to finally hear me out about art, and let me switch, but it got- crazy. My mom was so mad at him for leaving her for nearly a month. He was barely even talking to her. And so she’s screaming, stomping around, calling him a ‘son of a bitch’ and an ‘asshole’, which she never usually does, and he’s yelling back at her. They’re fighting about my major and him leaving us and all this. Then my Dad goes on this rant about how I can’t be an artist for my career because all the great artists were apparently drug addicts or alcoholics, and he told this story about how Mark Rothko slid his wrists and died on the kitchen floor, and - _what the hell_ am I supposed to say to that? He thinks if I become an art major I’m automatically going to start shooting heroin and drinking like a fish, apparently, or popping pills.”

“Geez. That's harsh.”

“Yeah, and my mom finally starts to calm down and hear him out, and I heard him out. I mean, in a way I see what he’s saying, not that I agree with it, but anyway… then he apologies for missing my concert and trying to change my major on me, and he’s offering me these other majors like engineering and stuff, and… the only one I would actually consider is programming, so, I guess that’s my major now. But I told them I don’t want to start any classes this late. I can’t. So I’m part-time this semester, now. I’m just taking French, CS, and Public Speaking. Next semester I’ll start taking computer science classes. But yeah, no more neuroscience. My mom was disappointed, but then she just dropped it. It was crazy. They were really going after each other for a while there. They never usually fight like that.”

“That sounds really intense.”

“It was.” He sighed and took another drink.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. My dad, he… he actually does have an excuse for not talking to me for so long. I mean, in a way he does. I still think he should have texted me a bit more, or something, but yeah, he has a valid excuse.”

“ _What was it?_ Why did he bail on you?”

“Something serious. I can’t talk about it.”

“You can’t talk about it?” Sypha laughed a little, but her face fell when she saw his serious expression. “Why not? Some top-secret new phone technology at CTC or something like that? You don’t have to tell me any details at all.”

“You know, I really can’t talk about it, Sypha." He shook his head. "I wish I could, but I can’t. Rules are rules.”

“Rules? What rules?”

“My father’s rules. About secrecy. I know it’s annoying but if you’re going to be my girlfriend it’s just going to be something you’ll have to get used to, I’m sorry. Sometimes if you ask me where he was or what he was doing I’ll have to say ‘I can’t tell you that’ or ‘I don’t know and I can’t ask.’”

“Woah. Does he do some top-secret government work or something?”

“Can’t talk about it.” He answered that question quickly.

“Right,” she shook it off, “Okay. Sorry, no worries then. But- you’re not mad at him anymore?” Adrian tilted his head, thinking about it.

“Mad? No, not really. A little mad that he tried to trick me into switching my major and then have mom be mad at me, but the only reason I said yes in the first place was to get my mom to yell at him, in hopes that it would open up the possibility of me changing my major to art. So, I guess we both did something shitty... But then we went down the whole road about art leading to drug overdoses and I wasn’t prepared to combat that.”

“Wow. You have a lot of drama in your family, don’t you?” She felt for him.

“Sometimes. I think things are better now though. My parents made up.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she forgave him because he explained what he was doing and… well, his story checks out, so she forgave him. After yelling at him for quite a while of course. That’s kind of how she is. If she’s angry she’ll just tell you right away, right to your face, and then it’s over, and she lets it go. My dad’s not like that. He plans things forever and he holds onto things for a long time afterwards.”

“Who’s he mad at?” She wondered. 

“Oh, no one now. Not really. I just mean in general. That’s what he’s like.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Anyway, sorry I couldn’t hang out. I wanted to.”

“That’s okay,” she smiled, stepping forward to kiss him on the lips. Adrian reciprocated, kissing her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled back to look at him. Adrian played with her pretty red hair. It was getting longer, no longer in a pixie style. It had morphed into a cute, curly short bob. It suited her face well.

“What did you do?” Adrian asked her, enjoying the way her blue eyes sparkled mischievously as they always did. 

“Uh- I went shopping with my friends at the mall, but I didn’t buy anything. We went to a party in the burbs at this guy’s house, got drunk, played some games.”

“Games?”

“Yeah, we played beer pong and Cards Against Humanity. It was fun. My friend Justin is so good at that game. And Trevor’s really good, too. But he wasn’t there. He had a hockey game and then he went to Joey’s with his team. He sent me a picture. They were doing snorkel shots- it was pretty funny, I should show you the picture.”

“Joey’s is a bar?”

“Yeah, it’s a bar. The one they always go to. They watch sports games and get hammered. Pretty much every weekend. They never card anyone. And he goes to frat parties a lot of course. He’s not in the frat, but he’s buddies with this guy, Derek, and he always throws parties for Delta Psi, which is his frat. They have a big house right next to campus and they throw these wild rager parties pretty much every weekend.”

“Wow. That’s - a lot of partying.”

“Yeah, he’s been getting a little better since you joined us, but…” she trailed off, breaking the embrace and stepping back, “He drinks a lot. All the time. It’s weirder for me to see him and the morning and have him not be hungover or exhausted. Often both.”

“That’s not good.” It made Adrian feel sad inside to think about it.

“No, it’s not. And those frat guys are the opposite of who he should be around. Half of them are alcoholics too but they just call themselves ‘party guys’ or whatever. And they always do drugs. They smoke weed. And sometimes they do shrooms or coke.”

“ _Cocaine?_ ” That concerned Adrian a bit.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“A lot of the rich guys at our school snort coke. You didn't know that? I guess your parents hate drugs, but, they do. In the library on one of the desks, someone wrote ‘I snorted coke on this desk’ and another person wrote below it ‘me too.’”

“God,” Adrian sighed, “Does Trevor do that stuff?”

“Um... sometimes,” she shrugged, “I don’t think he does cocaine often at all, but yeah sometimes he does that stuff. But he can’t afford coke, so he could never be addicted. He only gets drugs when they're offered to him by rich friends. He spends most of his money on alcohol, anyway…" she sighed, "I really hope that he gets better.”

“Maybe he should try going to AA meetings,” Adrian suggested. Sypha shook her head.

“He said no. He doesn’t want to stop drinking. Plus, he says he’s uncomfortable talking about his drinking problems in public. Doesn’t trust people.” Adrian thought about it, concerned for him. 

“Well… he could talk to me. We’re starting to open up to each other.”

“That’s good,” Sypha smiled, hopeful, “Yeah, maybe that would work. But you have to be gentle with him, okay? He’s very reluctant to share things. He doesn’t like to talk about his problems. It’s sensitive for him. And try not to be offended if he yells at you. He just doesn’t know how to deal with emotions like that. He takes it out on other people. Sometimes when he feels vulnerable he just lashes out.”

“Right… okay. I will.” They moved to the couch, sitting down.

“I’m glad you guys are hanging out. I really think it’s good for him. And he likes you so much, I can tell.”

“Okay," Adrian sat forward, "can we talk about this, please? Because I don’t exactly understand what happened that day. What did you mean when you said you knew?” Sypha blinked at him.

“What? I knew that you two were into each other. I’m sure for the two of you it’s hard to tell, because you’re both kind of oblivious to that stuff, but to anyone else, it’s clear you like each other.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“Yes, of course. I’m fine with it- no, actually, I’m _happy_ about it. I’m glad Trevor can have that with someone. I mean, I thought that person might have been me, but it’s-" she shook it off, "it’s clear he’s into you, so- you two should enjoy each other.” Adrian raised a brow, finding her views on the matter very odd.

“That doesn’t make you jealous?” She shook her head in the negative.

“That would be petty. You’re dating me, but that doesn’t mean I own you or anything. I’m not your mom, I’m not your master. I know this is probably an uncommon view of relationships, but I don’t think they should work that way. I think there should be free love, free sex. Safely. People can enjoy each other.”

Adrian looked down at the blue carpet, thinking about how to phrase his next question in a nice way.

“...your grandfather’s group doesn’t happen to be related at all to the Manson family, right?” Sypha laughed loudly. The Manson's strange and psychotic group were not like her family much at all.

“Ah! Hah, no, no we’re not related to his group. No connection, really, except that we're from Cali and both groups believe in free love. But my group is still active and everything. My grandpa’s the elder. We don’t really have leaders or anyone like that, because we don’t really believe in them, but he’s the most senior member and so he’s helpful. He has lots of wisdom.”

“What do people call your family’s group?”

“Well, we call our group ‘the group’ or ‘our family’ or something like that. Because we're family. But outsiders generally call our group an ‘intentional community’ but I’m not really sure where that came from. We travel around a lot. But we do have one big house outside L.A. and that’s mainly where I grew up.”

“Yeah, you told me that.” He nodded.

“Right. So I was there a lot but we traveled a ton, also.”

“Were you homeschooled?”

“Sometimes. But I did high school in person. I told my grandpa I wanted to.”

“What did he think about you going to college?” Sypha exhaled, putting her legs up on the coffee table.

“Well, it’s not exactly what most people in the group do, but he was all for it. Freedom is our whole thing. It’s the foundation of our community.”

“How does that work?” The idea seemed foreign. 

“Everyone is just supposed to be kind and respectful while doing whatever they want. No rules other than ‘be kind to everyone’. We do what we want. But most people fall into certain roles as they see fit. Some tend to the animals, some plow the fields, some cook the meals, or clean the house. Everything falls into place because we get along with one another. The whole point of an ‘intentional community’ is social cohesion. Getting along. My grandpa raised me, and he did a great job, but he doesn’t tell me what to do. If I ask for guidance, he will guide me, but he doesn’t make choices for me. None at all.”

“You’re _so fucking lucky_ ,” Adrian muttered under his breath, “It’s hard for me to imagine a relationship like that. Or a place like that. So, are you all on a farm?” He tried to picture it.

“Yeah, we have a farm. There are a few buildings. Some of them we made ourselves. There’s a big house with like eight or nine bedrooms, another smaller house, a big barn, a small barn, a garden, some pastures, and the fields. Also we have this big campfire area and we have campfires all the time. It’s great. But it’s harder to do them now because of the forest fires. We had to switch to a fire pit, but it’s okay. We made it ourselves with bricks and everything. We make pretty much everything ourselves. Most of the food. We can things. We prepare firewood, take care of the animals, milk them, harvest everything. I mostly worked in the vegetable garden but also in the house sometimes. My grandpa taught me lessons at the kitchen table with other kids in the group. I was homeschooled for a while but he was a great teacher. He still is a great teacher. Grandpa’s a big fan of the spoken word. He taught us history lessons and science lessons orally and we had to take oral exams. I learned how to read and write early on of course but speaking and listening were the top priorities for us. And practical knowledge. My grandpa would just take us kids to a museum or a park and tell us about things. I did a lot of my learning in museums and different places."

“Did you have to stay only in the group? Did you ever associate with people outside of the group?”

“Of course we went out! All the time. My grandpa didn’t want me to be weird. He enrolled me in soccer, and then dance later on. And community classes starting at age five or six. And we did go out sometimes. We would go to restaurants and events in town, sure, of course. It was a lot of fun. I loved it. That whole lifestyle, all that freedom, it’s amazing.”

“I bet. How did your grandpa make money if you don’t mind my asking?”

“He’s a yoga teacher.”

“Oh, right.”

“Yeah, he still teaches yoga. And breathwork, posture, all that stuff. He taught me everything I know about yoga. People love him because he’s an old guy, I mean, he’s seventy, but he’s nimble as a child. He can bend all around, sit cross-legged, do a backbend, and all that.”

“Wow. He sounds amazing.”

“He really is..." she drifted off before focusing back on what she wanted to get Adrian to do.

"Anyway, about Trevor-"

"Yeah?" Adrian asked.

"I think you should talk to him. If things don't get better. I really like the idea of you two being close. Those frat guys are not a good influence by any means. You are. And he likes you so much... I want you to spend time together when I can't. And you have much more free time than I do! So you should. And, you know, if he changes his mind about the whole not-sleeping-together thing, go for it!"

"Are you sure?" He could hardly believe those words were coming out of her mouth.

"Yes. I want him to be happy. Trevor doesn't even know what real happiness is, Adrian. He just drinks to forget and pulls him through life like its all so tortuous... because that's how he feels. Because he's plagued by such terrible memories. The traumas he went through, losing his family, being homeless. He's never liked anyone romantically before. I don't think he really believes that anyone would want to be with him that way. Because he's so damaged. He thinks so lowly of himself sometimes. And he doesn't think people would want to be romantic with him. But I think maybe he would like you that way, if he doesn't already. Romantically, I mean. And if you two have that connection, it would mean the world to him. And I think you could be a really great, positive person in his life who could convince him to change.

If anyone could improve his life, for real, and convince him to become a better person... _it's you_. People's paths cross for a reason, Adrian. You met us for a reason. You met Trevor for a reason. I believe that with all my heart...

And I think your paths- _they're twisted_."

* * *

A/N: "roll credits!" Please review! What did you think? Do you still have questions? What do you think will happen next?


	20. Stubborn Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian and Sypha want something more. But Trevor's still a stubborn, stubborn boy.

Adrian’s Car: [ https://www.astonmartinlongisland.com/2018-aston-martin-db11-v8-c-234.htm ](https://www.astonmartinlongisland.com/2018-aston-martin-db11-v8-c-234.htm)

Outfit: 

Hoodie- $1,005

[ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/maison-margiela-paint-effect-hoodie-item-15792670.aspx?storeid=9499 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/maison-margiela-paint-effect-hoodie-item-15792670.aspx?storeid=9499)

Track pants- $790 [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/thom-browne-side-stripe-track-pants-item-13519191.aspx?storeid=9499 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/thom-browne-side-stripe-track-pants-item-13519191.aspx?storeid=9499)

Balenciaga sock shoes- $795 [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/balenciaga-speed-lt-sneakers-item-15223838.aspx?storeid=10952 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/balenciaga-speed-lt-sneakers-item-15223838.aspx?storeid=10952)

* * *

Song: 응프리스타일- EUNG Freestyle Rap [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QljRe99OMCU ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QljRe99OMCU)

(Korean rap is AMAZING. Comment below if you want playlists or song recs)

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay with this chapter. I had midterms and I was super busy. Also, I hated writing this chapter at times. It was really difficult in some spots. But I'm glad it's done with. The next few chapters will be much more fun to write! And read, probably. I know you've all been waiting a long time for Trevor/Adrian, but I'll let you know you will start seeing that in the next chapter. Promise... but for now... angst & suffering! (hah) Enjoy!

* * *

Trevor, Adrian, and Sypha had spent the afternoon in the library together, working on their group project and messing around. They had finished a good chunk of the work and Sypha moved on to other schoolwork, reading her history textbook and taking notes. Adrian had a light class schedule after changing his major and dropping his difficult classes, so he relaxed for a bit, drawing in his pad. Trevor was supposed to be working on a sociology paper but he kept losing focus, his eyes drifting over to Adrian who was sitting beside him at the library table. People chatted all around them, talking and studying together. 

“How’s your paper going?” Adrian asked, looking over at his friend with a smile. _Ohh._ Trevor thought he looked very nice when he was smiling. He glanced down at his paper.

“Uh, it’s- okay. Not really in the mood, though.”

“When’s it due?”

“Tomorrow,” Trevor muttered. 

“Maybe you should get started,” he chuckled, playing with a stray strand of hair. Trevor tried not to smile at the display. He was so beautiful, leaning to the side, blonde hair falling all over the place, golden eyes twinkling impishly. _Wow. Why does he have to be like that? All pretty and beautiful and-_

“You seem happier lately.” It sounded random. Trevor didn’t know why he said it. Adrian made a face and shrugged.

“I _am_ happier,” he admitted it, looking between them, “I have you two, I’m not taking science classes I hate. I have more free time… I started drawing again.” He looked down at the drawing pad in his lap.

“I’ve never seen your drawings,” Trevor muttered, looking at Adrian, who was running a hand through his pretty blonde hair. _Again, seriously? You’re too pretty, argh._

“Do you want to see?” He asked, looking up at Trevor almost flirtatiously from under long blonde lashes. Trevor gulped, and then he nodded. Adrian flipped open his red leather-bound drawing book. It was made to look like one from olden times, embossed and designed with swirls and thorned roses. It was beautiful. 

“That’s a nice notebook,” he complimented, watching as Adrian opened it.

“Thanks,” he said, flipping to a recent drawing. It was a detailed sketch of a couple on a campus bench in the snow, bare trees and stone buildings behind them. The guy had glasses and a short beard and the girl wore a big fluffy coat. She was smiling happily, curly hair peeking out from under a beanie. _That’s really nice._

“Wow. It’s good. Who are they?” Trevor asked, looking at unfamiliar faces.

“Just two students I saw on campus. I sat at the bench opposite from them and drew for an hour. They were so in love they didn’t even notice me drawing them… It was kind of funny.” Adrian had leaned in close to show him the drawing, and when Trevor turned back to look at him, he was close. Too close. 

_Mhh. Why can’t things go back to the way they were before? Why did I have to start feeling this way? This is terrible. I can’t keep doing this. Just- stop! Urgh. Stop thinking about him. Think about Sypha. Ah, okay. Sypha. She looks so cute today. I love the way her lips twitch when she’s working, and how she bites the bottom one… And the way she pulls her leg up on the chair when she’s tired, and how she yawns, and sighs, and looks at me. With those big blue eyes._

_Fuck! This was a bad idea. I can’t think about either of them. I need to study. Okay… sociology. What is this paper about, anyway? I don’t even understand. I have to use the articles to argue that prisons should be defunded somehow, but the articles are all different viewpoints, I don’t- wha-_

_Did Adrian just rub his foot against my leg?!_

Trevor looked up, startled and wide-eyed. Adrian’s eyes flicked up to meet his.

“Sorry, just trying to get my bag.”

“Oh-” Trevor inhaled, and it came out strange, like he was expecting something else, “I mean, yeah. ‘Course, here,” Trevor handed the Prada bag over to him. Adrian gave him a bit of a weird look but didn’t say anything, and Sypha was buried in her history book, immune to distractions. _Shit! Why did I say that? I need to stop acting so weird around him._ But then Adrian started packing a couple of things away in his bag, and his hair was falling over his shoulders, his eyelashes were brushing his cheeks, and Trevor was somehow overwhelmed by seemingly nothing at all. The blonde man’s golden eyes flicked up.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing. I-” Trevor grabbed his laptop and stuffed it into his bag hastily, “I gotta go. Forgot. See ya later.” He walked off in a rush of movement, without another word.

* * *

[study group ;)]

Adrian (10:34 am) Hey, how are you two?

Trevor (11:01am) I have so much work to do. I’m going to study by myself in the library. Kinda stressed about it 

Sypha (11:03 am) SAME omg I’m kinda dreading next week… midterms are gonna suck honestly

Adrian (11:14 am) Sorry, guys. I can take the brunt of the CIS

Trevor (1:01 pm) Hey Adrian can you take me to the dentist on Thursday

Sypha (1:03 pm) what do you say trevor??

Trevor (1:04 pm) please

Sypha (1:04 pm) Good boy

Adrian (2:23 pm) Yes, I can pick you up, Trevor. And I’ll take you back to campus afterward. Make sure you have basic information with you for the dentist: driver’s license, health insurance card, etc. 

Trevor (2:30 pm) Okay. Thanks

Sypha (3:02 pm) what are you having done

Trevor (3:03 pm) Adrian is paying for me to have my wisdom teeth removed

Sypha (3:05 pm) Oh how nice of him!! Finally you can get them out

Sypha (3:06 pm) OMG you’re getting laughing gas! I CAN’T WAIT THAT’LL BE SO FUNNY

Sypha (3:06 pm) I’M GONNA COME OVER AND RECORD YOU

Trevor (3:08 pm) Do NOT record me!! 

Sypha (3:09 pm) Okay fine but Adrian tell me everything

* * *

On Thursday, Trevor finished practice in the afternoon. He stepped out of the communal shower, finishing drying off and then wrapping the towel around his waist. His teammates chatted around him. He walked past them to his locker, not looking at any of them. _Gotta get ready quick. Adrian will be here soon._ He just went straight to his locker to get dressed. Gabe, a fellow partier, came up behind him as he was zipping up his jeans.

“Hey, Trevor, you wanna get a beer with us? We’re going in a couple hours.” He sat down on the bench, watching Trevor put on deodorant and pull a sweatshirt over his head.

“Nah, thanks, though. I have an appointment today.”

“Did you get new clothes?” Gabe asked, looking at the fine quality of his sweatshirt and jeans. _Shit. I knew people would notice._ His clothes usually looked like they had been worn for five years. 

“Uh, yeah. A few things. I had a job at the pizza place, remember?” 

“Oh, yeah. Forgot. This is nice,” Gabe nodded, looking at the new wine-colored sweatshirt. It looked really good on Trevor, with his tan skin and blue eyes. He dried off his dark hair with a towel.

“Thanks.”

“Is Trevor coming?” Brian asked, walking over to the lockers and getting dressed. 

“Nope,” Gabe crossed his arms, leaning back against the lockers, “He has an _appointment_.”

“ _You_ have an appointment? Bullshit. You never have appointments,” Brian laughed, thinking he was brushing them off. Trevor prepped his backpack.

“I’m going to the dentist.”

“Oh, okay,” he walked over, “You need a ride? I can take you.” Brian had a truck and was usually Trevor’s ride if he needed one. 

“Thanks, man, but I already have a ride. My friend Adrian is taking me.”

“Adrian? Who’s that?” Gabe wondered. He had never heard Trevor talking about any friend other than Sypha.

“What’s his last name?” Brain wondered, putting on some Axe deodorant. _Oh no._

“...Tepes.”

“ _Dracula’s son?!_ ” Gabe startled, “You’re friends with Dracula’s son?” _Goddammit._

“Uh, yeah, I guess,” he grunted, putting on his shoes and lacing them, “he’s not a bad guy. He’s cool, actually.”

“Oh-kay,” Brian scowled, “Why didn’t you mention him before?” _I didn’t want to mention him to you. You’d gossip about him._ He kind of scoffed, crossing his arms. Trevor blinked up at him, tying his other shoe.

“We just started hanging out recently. I kinda hated him at first but- turns out he’s actually nice.”

“I think I’ve seen him before, around campus. The blonde guy with really long hair? Super rich?” _That’s the one._

“His dad is Dracula. Obviously,” Brian chimed in, “I’ve seen that guy in the science building... Isn’t he a fag?” _Jesus of Nazareth... not again._ Trevor turned around to face his locker, slipping his backpack over one shoulder. He sighed a little through his nose. _I don’t want to talk about this._ Then he turned around to face them and shook his head.

“No, he has a girlfriend,” he denied the accusation, expression guarded and serious.

“Really? Who?” Gabe asked. _Mrgh._

“He’s dating Sypha.” Brian and Gabe looked at each other in confusion. _Good. Leave it alone._ Brian reached into his locker to put on a t-shirt. 

“Why didn’t _you_ date Sypha, man?” Gabe wondered, huffing.

“She’s fucking hot,” Brian groaned, “You never even fucked her?” _I wish._ Trevor pulled out his phone, waiting for Adrian to tell him he was close.

“Uh, no. We’re just friends,” he shrugged, “that’s all.”

“I don’t know why you didn’t date her,” Gabe chimed in. _She never liked me that way._

“Now she’s with Dracula’s son…what the fuck.” 

“He’s- _interesting._ ” Trevor commented. He didn’t really know how to explain Adrian.

“I _really_ thought he was gay,” Brian scoffed incredulously, pulling on a hoodie. “That’s crazy. Never would have guessed he’s straight.” _Oh just fucking shut up already. It’s none of your damn business._

[Adrian]

Adrian (2:09 pm) I’m pulling up. 

Trevor (2:09 pm) Okay, coming!

“He’s cool,” Trevor muttered, leaving, “See ya.” _Don’t follow me, don’t follow me, don’t follow me-_

“Hold up!” Gabe walked out with him. _Arghh._

“Wait, I’m coming too. I want to see what he rides,” Brian called out, grabbing his gym bag and following along. They walked out of the locker room and then down the hall until they reached the front entrance of the building. Adrian pulled up in a white Aston Martin, a streamlined, sleek sports car with black accents. The noise of the engine was distinct, but the noise of Adrian’s loud Korean rap was much more distinct. _It’s badass._ Even students on the other side of the road stopped to look, trying to see who was getting out of the car.

_그건 달라 내 고집과는_

_지켜 네 소신 타령말고 초심_

_내가 볼땐 너넨 다 똑같은 반응_

“Woah,” Gabe spoke up from behind him, eyes glued to the expensive car that rolled up in front of the sports building. The three of them just stood in awe, admiring the car, not moving an inch. _Can’t believe I’m friends with this guy._ Muffled Korean rap played loudly inside the car, making the bass pound.

_여길 다 나홀로 지배해_

_난 마치 케빈같아_

“Holy shit,” Bryan chuckled, “Shit.” It was a beautiful car. Adrian stepped out, music still playing, and looked at Trevor expectantly, who was just standing stagnant with a backpack slung around his shoulder. Trevor’s teammates took in the billionaire’s son. He had on a Maison Margiela black and white hoodie with a modern design, Thom Browne black track pants, Balenciaga sock shoes. Trevor would have never even thought to put an outfit like that together, but it worked. He looked edgy and rich, and perfectly matched his black and white sportscar. 

_다 뺏어다가 챙길꺼야 난 양아치새끼같아 brr, brr_

“Hey. You coming?” Adrian asked him, gesturing for him to get in the passenger seat. There was no backseat, of course, only a front seat. Trevor nodded absently and got into the car.

_혼자 다 해먹어_

_마치 난 북한대통령 같아_

“Bye,” he muttered to his hockey friends, who were too in shock to say anything. _Finally._ Soon Adrian was driving away. He turned down the loud, aggressive Korean rap that was making the bass go berzerk. 

“How are you?” He asked Trevor, like everything was normal. Trevor supposed that for him, maybe everything was. He had said before that he was used to people staring at him.

“Um… I’m okay. Why are you taking me to the dentist in this? What kind of car is this anyway?” 

“This is my car. It’s an Aston Martin.” 

“Oh- _kay._ Never heard of it. But, cool, I guess.” _Looks like a fucking spaceship in here._ Adrian turned the music off. He could tell something was up already.

“Are you okay?” He asked, turning to look at Trevor briefly. The car swerved into another lane. Trevor stared at the dashboard, face low and tired.

“Mgh,” he shifted in the seat, blinking slowly, “I dunno.”

“That means you’re not. What’s up? Did something happen at practice?” He seemed genuinely concerned, but even Trevor didn’t know what was wrong with him. 

“Not really.”

“Who were those guys?”

“My teammates.”

“Oh,” Adrian sighed, turning on the windshield wipers because it was starting to rain, “Are you doing alright lately? How are your classes going?” Trevor should have appreciated that Adrian was trying to make conversation, but he felt unsociable in that moment. 

“My classes- they’re okay, I guess... I’m getting by.”

“Good.” 

“I just feel-” Trevor cut himself off without meaning to. He hadn’t even meant to start that sentence, it just slipped out.

“You feel what?” Adrian pushed, “You can tell me. I’ll listen.”

“I don’t know. Like… nothing’s really the way I want it to be. Like everything’s fucked up.” Everything did indeed feel fucked up. Like the world was tilted on its axis too far or something. Like it always was raining and the day was always dragging on. 

“...you mean me and Sypha dating?” Adrian asked, voice low but not upset. Trevor looked over at him for a moment.

“No, no. Just, I don’t know. I’m tired, and I feel lazy. I never really feel like going anywhere, or going to practice. Or going to class. Everything just feels… gray.” He would never usually share his feelings so openly, but Adrian was the person he trusted the most for some reason. Probably because Adrian actually cared and didn’t want anything from him.

“Maybe you’re depressed, Trevor. Or- you might have seasonal affective disorder.”

“What makes-” 

“I’ve been depressed before. It’s not something to be ashamed about, you know. And lots of people have seasonal affective disorder. It has to do with the low light in winter.” 

“Really?” He hadn’t heard much about that.

“Of course. Lots of people suffer from depression at different times. People just deal with it differently. Or they try to ignore it.” Trevor thought about that. _Maybe he’s right._

“I guess... Maybe.”

“You know, there are light lamps you can get to help with it.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“I have one at my family’s house,” he explained, looking across at Trevor briefly, blond hair falling over his shoulder, “I can bring it for you.”

“Thanks,” he pressed his lips together, “But I’ll be fine.” Adrian looked over at him again, his scowl and his crossed, muscular arms. He doubted it, deep down. He knew Trevor wasn’t feeling right. But he didn’t want to push it, so he let it go. 

Hours later, Trevor came of oral surgery. With cotton stuffed in his bloody, and newly molar-less gums, he was rolled into the waiting room. Adrian smiled a little when he saw him, filled with Novocaine and mouth stuffed with bloody gauze. He tried not to laugh as he signed something saying he was taking Trevor home. 

“Come on,” Adrian urged him to get up out of his chair. They walked together to the car and Adrian helped him into the passenger seat, then strapped him in.

“Hey,” Trevor spoke up, the sound muffled by all the gauze in his mouth, “Hey, Adrian.”

“Move your arm, Trevor. I’m trying to buckle you in,” he chuckled, pushing his arm out of the way so he could buckle him up. Trevor’s bleary eyes were watery and dazed, blinking around in confusion. His body felt heavy and numb. The laughing gas was still in full effect. 

Trevor kept pointing out things on the drive. And Adrian was just trying to stay focused on the road, and it was hard, because Trevor sure knew how to entertain.

“ _Mini-goff!_ Oh mah Gaw! Leh’s p-ay.” He pointed sloppily at the mini golf on the side of the road. Adrian stifled a laugh.

“It’s raining outside.” He felt like a mother of a three-year-old.

“I ‘ike mini goff. Syffa ‘ikes it too. If’s good!”

“Okay, we can play mini golf tomorrow. But now you need to rest-”

“Chuck-e-Cheeve!” Trevor interrupted, definitely like a three-year-old, “That place’ e besh. ‘Haven’ been vere in yearth.”

“Yes, Chuck-e-Cheese is great.”

“But the pitha ith a conthirathy… ith all fucked up… yeah, ith’s a conthpirathy.”

“Everything’s a conspiracy to you, Trev.” He glanced over to a moment, watching Trevor roll his head around. 

“I feel wei-ird,” Trevor moaned comically.

“I’m sorry. The drugs will wear off pretty soon. Maybe in a half hour.” He flicked on the windshield wipers again. 

“I’m on drugth? Oh no!” Adrian chuckled at that. Even Trevor was concerned about it, despite his inebriated state.

“Yes, the doctor gave you some drugs. It’s okay. It’s for your pain.”

“Vere are ‘e goin’?” Trevor’s voice sounded absolutely ridiculous and Adrian bit his lip to keep from laughing. He made a turn and Trevor made a bunch of sound effects as a result.

“Oh-woh--woah! Hey, there. This ithn’t Nathcar… Vere are ‘e goin’?”

“We’re going back to my place,” Adrian explained, trying to focus on the road while he pulled off the highway. 

“Ah-hah-hoo,” Trevor laughed incoherently and suggestively, “You haven’ even taken me out fo’ dinner yet.” Adrian rolled his eyes. “Buy a man a theak firth.” 

“Oh my God. You need to take a nap… you need to wear this off.” 

“Take wha’ off?” He sounded like he was mock-offended. Or possibly flirting, and Adrian didn’t want to engage in either when he was driving.

“Nevermind.” He pulled into the parking garage.

Calming Trevor and getting him ready to sleep was another issue. Adrian sat him on the couch and put an ice pack on his jaw to reduce the swelling. Then he covered him in a big fluffy blanket and hoped he would fall asleep. When he was tucking the blanket in around him, Trevor reached a hand up and carded it through Adrian’s long blonde hair. It made Adrian pause for a moment, looking into his bleary ice blue eyes. He was still full of laughing gas.

“You’re tho pret-ee.” The gauze in his mouth made him hard to hear, but Adrian could still make out what he said. _You’re so pretty._

“Thank you, Trevor.” He finished covering Trevor with the blanket, leaning over him a bit to tuck it in the other side. Trevor could only stare up at him in awe, no filter given his drugged-up state.

“Mah, you’re beau-ithul. Wo-ow. You’re like a prithe or a printhess... Rapunthel.” 

“My hair isn’t quite as long as Rapunzel’s.”

“It’th thill really pretty though. Tho thoft,” he sighed, touching a blonde lock. 

“Thanks, Trevor.” It made him smile to hear Trevor be open. And to be getting so many compliments, even if the giver was high as hell.

“Are you married?” Trevor asked, dazed and confused, peering up at him. He kept touching his hair, running his hand through over and over again like a child. Adrian laughed, but he didn’t stop him.

“Am I married?” He repeated with a smirk.

“Yeah.”

“No, I’m not married,” he chuckled and wished Sypha was present to witness this. But she had class. He was definitely going to tell her about this.

“Do you wanna marry me?” Trevor’s blue eyes were so wide, so full of innocence in that moment. Not a care in the world. All he had was his eyes on Adrian and a mouth full of bloody gauze. 

“...Maybe, one day,” Adrian laughed, deciding to play along. He knew Trevor wouldn’t remember this anyway. Adrian didn’t remember what he had said after his wisdom teeth removal.

“I like you, do you know thath?” Trevor touched Adrian’s cheek with childlike clumsiness and Adrian grabbed his hand, holding it warmly. He was trying not to blush.

“I thought maybe you did.”

“I do. You’re tho thmart and thweet. And pretty and blonde… I like you.”

“That’s really sweet, Trevor,” he giggled a bit, rubbing his thumb over Trevor’s larger one. 

“That feelth nithe… do you like me thoo?”

“What?”

“Do you like me thoo?” He wanted to know.

“Yeah,” Adrian whispered, petting his arm a little. “I do.”

“Yay,” Trevor sighed, letting his eyes close. Adrian watched him as he started to fall asleep. He wished Trevor would remember the encounter, but he was sure he wouldn’t. 

* * *

And he didn’t. A week passed and Adrian didn’t bring it up. As Valentine’s day approached, they were spending less and less time together. Trevor was eating with them less, texting them less, studying with them less. It was making both Adrian and Sypha sad. They hated seeing him slip away. It seemed most weekends he preferred drinking and partying to studying, and Trevor and Sypha weren’t inclined to follow him. He was on his own, but that was the wanted it to be. Or so it seemed.

* * *

_Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep!_

Trevor groaned lightly, shifting around in bed to find his phone and turning off the alarm. His throat was dry and uncomfortable, as was his whole head. _It’s Monday. Shit._ He had spent the previous night guzzling beers and doing shots with Brian and Gabe. A very poor decision given the fact that the next morning he would have an important computer science exam. He shot awake, remembering it. His buddies had encouraged him to stay out and have fun, mocking him for saying he was supposed to go to the library and study on a Sunday night. He had stayed. And the only thing he had been studying was the bottom of a beer can. _Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. This is bad._ He raced to get ready, hurling himself out of bed and into the bathroom. Tom, his roommate, was snoring on the other side of the room. 

Trevor splashed some water on his face, gargled with mouthwash, put on deodorant, and got dressed. _I’m such an idiot. I didn’t study! Fuck, why do I hate myself? I shouldn’t have gone out._ He finished tying his shoes and grabbed his phone. _8:22. Okay, I can still pass. I just have to be quick._ The exam was in class at nine. After grabbing his keys, wallet, and backpack, he raced out the door, not even bothering to grab a jacket. He was fine in a sweatshirt. Trevor knew he couldn’t fail. Flunking the exam meant pulling down his grade significantly, and he already hadn’t been doing well on the homework so far. It was a significant part of his grade.

He practically raced down the stairs and out of the building. In swift strides, he made his way to the Starbucks on campus. While he was waiting on the line he pulled his notes out of his backpack and started going over them, reviewing what meant what. _Pseudocode, top-down design, PDLC. Java is a programming language that uses an object-oriented programming model, designed for use on graphical user interface (GUI) platforms._

Coffee and notes in hand, he walked over to the lecture hall building. He crammed, ignoring the pounding in the back of his skull and his bad decision making alike. Trevor went to his seat read as fast as he could.

“Hey,” Adrian greeted, sitting next to him. Trevor flicked his eyes over for exactly one second, just quickly enough to see a swath of blonde hair and a sophisticated outfit in a blur before going back to the sheet.

“Can’t talk, cramming.” 

“Well, good morning to you too.” Trevor focused on studying, trying to get the definitions of as many terms as possible, but after a minute or so he felt bad about being so rude. However, the moment he turned to say he was sorry he spotted exactly the thing he didn’t want to see: Adrian and Sypha kissing. _Fuck me._ Suddenly CP terms didn’t seem so bad.

A couple of hours later and the exam was over. Trevor thought he was able to scrape by with a combination of class lectures and Adrian’s explanations stored in his brain. He remembered some of the terms, but not all, of course. He totally guessed on a few questions. When he was done he sighed, relaxing his head back. _Why do I do this to myself?_

“Are we allowed to talk to you now?” Sypha asked, looking over at him. Trevor turned around, properly looking at them for the first time despite spending two hours sitting beside them.

“Hey. Yeah, sorry about earlier, I was just trying not to fail. I made the,” he scoffed at himself, “ _genius_ decision to go out drinking last night instead of study. Idiot, I know.”

“Yeah, that was pretty stupid. Do you think you passed?”

“I think so. Probably a C, I’d guess? Maybe a B. I don’t know. I’m a pretty good guesser, but there were some I was totally clueless about.”

“Sorry, Trevor. At least the final project will bring your scores up.” Adrian tried to be nice despite Trevor’s brash rudeness earlier.

“Yeah,” he didn’t seem so happy about it, looking at Adrian’s arm wrapped around Sypha, “Thanks.” The words sounded a little forced. 

“See you guys.” He packed up his bag and walked out, throwing his coffee away. Adrian followed just behind.

“Hey, Trevor, can I talk to you for a second?” Adrian asked, and Trevor nodded. They walked to their usual spot in the alley between two campus buildings, away from prying eyes. It was a bit sunny, a nice reprieve from days of grey, and Adrian slid on a pair of Gucci sunglasses.

“What’s up?” Trevor asked, stuffing his pockets in the nice coat Adrian had bought for him. Adrian took a deep breath through his nose, thinking of how he wanted to begin the discussion. He didn’t want to make Trevor uncomfortable again.

“Well, I just- I noticed that you’ve been kind of distant lately and I think - maybe we should talk about it.” _Mhh._ Trevor looked around, already uncomfortable.

“I haven’t been distant. I just- I’ve had homework and practice and... lifting. I’m busy, that’s all.” Adrian knew it was more than that.

“Okay, then you seem like you’re still uncomfortable being with us. Even in class. Or in the caf. You don’t hang out with us lately. I don’t- I hope I didn’t cause that. And I - I just - I think we should just talk about it and then hopefully get over this.” He stepped forward, hands open in a conciliatory gesture, clearly wanting to resolve the tension between them.

“We already did this, at your place, remember?” _It was a disaster._

“Yeah,” Adrian rolled his eyes at him, “you said ‘it’s fine, no worries’ and then we dropped it and never brought it up again… but you’re obviously _not_ fine, so I think we should bring it up again. Hopefully, clear the tension, you know?”

“Oh- _kay_ ,” Trevor said awkwardly, looking away. Adrian sighed, looking at his uncomfortable side glance, hands stuffed in his coat pockets. He blinked over to the blonde man with a strange expression, like he couldn’t tell where the conversation was going. “What?”

“Look, why don’t I just lay this out for you as simply as possible? I’ll just- say it bluntly, so there’s no confusion. Okay? Let’s get it all out into the open. Please. I’m sick of this.”

“Fine.”

“So Sypha and I talked about it, about her feelings, and my feelings and… we’re fine with whatever you want to do. Anything you want to do is fine with us _except you pulling away_ . We don’t want to lose you over this. And it seems like we _are_ so please, let’s just get past this. Whatever you want is fine with both of us. If you want to just be friends, if you want to,” he faltered, blushing a little and lowering his voice, “be more than that, if you wanna- date me. Or both of us. Anything is fine.”

“Date both of you?” Trevor whisper-yelled. Adrian nodded, licking his lips nervously.

“Have you ever heard of polyamory?”

“-you mean… like a threesome?” Trevor’s eyes blew wide. _What?!_

“Kind of. Look, we don’t want to pressure you to do anything, we just want you to choose what you want and so we can get past this awkward stage. Please, just, tell me what you want to do. If you want to-”

“Adrian,” Trevor laughed, but it came out more like a scoff, “I can’t _date you_.” He put emphasis on the words, like it was a ridiculous concept. Adrian’s face fell immediately and it was clear he was put off by the bluntness of the statement.

“Hey,” he tried to make up for his rudeness, “I’m sorry. That came off wrong. I just mean that- _look_ , I can’t date you, man. I’m-” he laughed “I’m a guy. And people think I’m straight. I can’t just start dating a guy, it would be- it would be a clusterfuck of a disaster.”

“Why?” Adrian didn’t understand what his big fear was. Trevor sighed in exasperation.

“My team is homophobic. My coach is homophobic. My roommate is homophobic. If my team decides they don’t like me my coach can kick me off and I would _lose my scholarship._ If I lose my scholarship, I wouldn't be able to pay my tuition and I’d have to drop out, and then I’d be homeless again. Or working sixty hours a week at a fucking Taco Bell Express and sleeping in somebody’s moldy basement. And that would be my whole life. I know you don’t have to think about these things, because your so fucking rich, but if I mess this up,” he gesticulated to the college campus around them, “I could ruin my whole life. I would never get an opportunity like this again. And so, yeah, I have to put up with stupid shit like my friends making fun of gay guys and calling them faggots all that, but what other choice do I have?” 

Adrian thought about it seriously, looking down at the grass and then back up at him.

“That’s not your only choice...I could pay your tuition, Trevor.”

“No, no, no, no, no. No way,” he shook his head vigorously, “I mean, thank you for offering but A- that’s too embarrassing and B- no offense, but I can’t count on you to do that. We just became friends like a month ago. I have a contract with the school that says as long as I play hockey for them I get free tuition, but I don’t have a contract with you. What if you decide you hate me in two weeks? And stop paying? That doesn’t work.”

“Okay, okay. I know you’re in a difficult position here. But I don’t think, legally, I mean, I don’t think they can kick you off the team merely for being bisexual,” he whispered, “I think that’s illegal discrimination and you could sue.” Trevor scoffed.

“So, what? I don’t have a lawyer, can’t afford one. Let’s say you give me one and I win. I’d _sue my way_ back onto the team? Or they would be forced by the school president to let me back on? It would be hell. I would never get picked for anything, they’d torment me, they’d trash my name, I wouldn’t get to go to any of the social events or parties-”

“Why are they so homophobic? At a liberal college?” Adrian was exasperated. 

“Maybe you don’t understand. They’re not,” he did air quotes, “‘homophobic’. But in reality, they are. Like, they would never go up to a gay guy in a club and start beating up or calling him faggot, but they say that word under their breath or after a few drinks. And the others might laugh. The point is- to them- gay men are _the other_ . They are not part of the group. The group is only for straight men. Straight as an arrow, never even _thought_ about another guy, never worn the color pink, straight men. Anyone else is ‘the other’ and they aren’t accepted. I’ve told you before, if they found out, they would _hate me for it._ They would call me a creep and a weirdo. I take naked showers with them like every day. We’re naked in the locker room together and stuff. And it doesn’t matter that I’m not into them. Just finding out that I was into guys that whole time would be enough to make them hate me. They would think it was super creepy that I had never told them. I mean, they never ask me, but it’s a form of lying, really. Obviously, I’m not straight. They just think I am-” Trevor was about to rant more but Adrian stopped him and touched his shoulder.

“Okay, okay,” he sighed quickly, “I get it. I understand.”

“Mhh.”

“We’ll just be friends then. That’s fine with me.” He stepped away from Trevor.

“We already decided that last time. Why-” he huffed, looking away in embarrassment, “why did you bring this up again?” Adrian looked at him with a golden gaze that meant more than words could express. 

“ _Why do you think?_ ” He whispered, soft as silk.

“I-” Trevor stumbled, scowling, “I don’t know, you said I was being awkward. Maybe you just don’t know me very well. I'm kind of an awkward guy. I don’t have a girlfriend for a reason. I’m terrible at this stuff. Anything with feelings involved, really.” 

“You’re not terrible. You’re just stuck in a really hard position.”

“Urgh,” Trevor groaned a little, “Tell me about it.”

“So, just - friends then?” Adrian confirmed, and Trevor looked at him. He wasn’t sure how to feel about the emotion he was seeing in Adrian’s eyes because he was pretty sure it was disappointment. _Fuck._ He looked down at his new shoes, courtesy of said blonde man, and he took a pack of Lucky Strikes out of his coat pocket, slipping a cigarette out and putting it between his lips. The burn in his throat felt appropriate. There was a lot more that he wanted to say, but he felt that he couldn’t. 

“Yeah,” he mumbled while lighting up. Adrian nodded.

“Okay then.”

“Mm-hm.”

A strange silence passed between them. The words they had said didn’t match the feelings within. But Adrian didn’t want to force anything on Trevor that he didn’t want, and Trevor didn’t want to ruin his life, as he saw it, so they kept their feelings to themselves. All Trevor did was hold out the box of Lucky Strikes for Adrian in a token of gratitude. Adrian smiled meekly and accepted, lighting one for himself. The two of them looked out over the courtyard in silence. They began the walk to the cafeteria to meet Sypha, and halfway there Adrian turned to Trevor and said,

“But, if you ever change your mind… just let me know.”

* * *

[Sypha]

Adrian (11:50 am) Hey, where are you? We’re in the caf.

Sypha (11:51 am) Oh, sorry babe! I’m at a meeting. I forgot I had one. Just eat with Trevor, ok??

Adrian (11:59 am) Trevor just grabbed some food and left. Said he had to meet a friend.

Sypha (12:00 pm) Hmm… 

Sypha (12:00 pm) What did he say

Adrian (12:02 pm) Trevor said he just wants to be friends. He went on and on about how homophobic his team is and so he can’t be with me. And he said no to the polyamory idea, too. I think we’re done trying, Sypha. I don’t want to force the idea on him. 

Sypha (12:03 pm) But he obviously likes you so much!! Asking to marry you and all that, omg

Adrian (12:04 pm) He was on laughing gas…

Sypha (12:05 pm) Okay, how about kissing you on two separate occasions, then? With tongue!

Adrian (12:06 pm) Sypha, that doesn’t mean that he wants to date me. Maybe he just likes my mouth.

Sypha (12:09 pm) Who wouldn’t? 

Sypha (12:10 pm) Oh, that reminds me. Can’t wait for tonight!! <3 I got new lingerie… you’re gonna like it ;)) what time should I come over? I’m done with class at 4

Adrian (1:00 pm) You can come over then. Can’t wait :)

* * *

[study group ;)]

Trevor (4:45 pm) Hey guys what’s up

Sypha (4:47 pm) We’re hanging out at Adrian’s apartment, wbu?

Trevor (5:00 pm) lifting at the school gym

Sypha (5:01 pm) you’re so good at working out. I need to work out. 

Sypha (8:35 pm) Treffi look at the dinner Adrian made me!! Ahh so yummy! I can’t wait to eat it

[attached:jpg]

Trevor (8:45 pm) wow looks good what is it

Adrian (8:46 pm) Seared scallops with brown butter and lemon sauce and garlic risotto with morel mushrooms and thyme.

Trevor (8:50 pm) holy shit. 

Trevor (8:51 pm) check out my awesome meal though

[attached:jpg]

Sypha (9:00 pm) is that cheetos and ramen noodles? Nooo trevor that’s so sad don’t eat that 

Trevor (9:09 pm) haha it’s actually good

Trevor (9:23 pm) what are you guys doing?

* * *

“ _Ahh!_ Yes, yes, _yes,_ ” Sypha cried out, groaning repeatedly under him. “Yes!”

“Fuck, ugh! Ahh,” Adrian finished with a loud cry, bucking against her a final time. A bead of sweat ran down his temple. He didn’t pull out for a while, taking his time, and trying to breathe. 

“That was so good, baby.” Her arms dropped by her sides. She was exhausted. 

“Yeah,” Adrian sighed, breathless. He pulled out and kissed her briefly before getting off the bed to throw the condom away. Sypha grabbed a tissue from his bedside table, trying to catch her breath as well. She took off the lacey Victoria’s Secret sale bra she had purchased just for this occasion. Adrian had liked it, just as anticipated, but it was pinching into her side. She watched Adrian drink some water and crack his neck. Sypha knew she was a little rough on him sometimes in bed. She hoped she hadn't hurt him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Of course. Wanna take a shower?” He asked, turning back around to look at her. She nodded and went into the bathroom, stepping into the black tile shower she had secretly always admired. 

Hours later she was tucked in the crook of Adrian’s arm and trying to fall asleep. She rested her head on his shoulder and cuddled against him, but sleep evaded her. Thoughts began to run together and tangle, and she couldn’t pull them apart. Big, messy tangles that made her upset. She couldn’t stop thinking about Trevor. The only sound was the wind in the trees outside the apartment. Adrian’s chest rose and fell next to her, and she put her hand on his sternum to feel his heartbeat. After a while, he cleared his throat and she knew he was awake. Sypha propped herself up on her elbow to look at him. It was too dark to see clearly but she could make out his form. Adrian blinked drowsily, peering up at her.

“Sypha?” He mumbled.

“Yeah, are you awake?”

“Yes. I am.” She cuddled against him again, thinking about what was bothering her. 

“I keep thinking about Trevor.” That got Adrian’s attention.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I feel… I feel guilty, Adrian. Maybe… maybe we made a mistake.”

“What?” Adrian tried not to panic, shifting and turning on the light on his nightstand. “We made a mistake?”

“No, I just mean,” she sighed, “The way we handled that. It wasn’t great. I think you made a mistake by being so blunt with him. He doesn’t respond well to that. We should have gone about it differently… somehow. I should’ve known he’d freak out and say no.”

“Well, he says he doesn’t want to. I tried to ask him again in private. I did ask him. He said he’s too worried about his team, he’s too scared he’ll lose his scholarship over me, and all that. I told you.”

“Yeah, but-” she rolled partially on top of him, “I feel bad. It’s so obvious he likes you and yet he doesn’t get to be with you. And he has to be lonely because of me.”

“But he doesn’t, Sypha,” he sighed lightly, “It’s not your fault. You told him you were fine with it. You didn’t make him lonely. You offered him a chance at something. I offered for him to date me, and he said no. We have to respect his wishes. If he wants to be lonely, that’s his choice. We didn’t do anything bad to him.” But that didn’t sound right to her. She never doubted her gut. And she felt guilty.

“We put him in an awkward position. He likes you but I’m dating you and he feels too weird to come between us.”

“But there’s nothing else we can do, Sypha, except wait. I told him to let me know if he changes his mind… I’m trying. It’s not my fault if he doesn’t accept kindness when it’s offered to him. That’s on him and his pride, not on me. And not on you.” Sypha groaned, dropping her head against Adrian’s shoulder.

“I wish he wouldn’t be so stubborn all the time. He’s such a Taurus, ugh. He makes himself miserable. I don’t understand him. His pride…”

“He’s in a difficult position,” Adrian sighed, trying to empathize.

“...that’s not reassuring.”

“No, but it’s honest,” Adrian winced at the light and turned it off, trying to get comfy again. Sypha still felt the guilt gnawing at her. They were in bed, warm and cozy, and she knew Trevor was stuck in his little twin with no one to comfort him. And on Valentine’s Day, too. She had been single before on Valentine’s Day. She knew how hard it was.

“He’s so beautiful and funny and brave and smart and… it’s so stupid that he’s all alone. I wish I could change that for him. Or _you_ could change that for him. Even if it’s not our fault I still… I feel for him. He’s all alone. Think about that. In his little dorm bed, all alone. His roommate doesn’t even live there, he lives with his girlfriend all the time.”

“Sypha,” Adrian groaned sadly.

“All alone. I’m feeling so guilty about it.”

“I’m sorry you’re feeling bad but I don’t know what else to do.”

“Give it another week. I bet he’ll change his mind.”

“You really think so?” Adrian scowled in the darkness, not so sure.

“He may be stubborn but I think he’ll change his mind if you offer again in a while. But it has to be totally different than last time. He never says yes to anything when it’s asked like that. I’ve tried to offer him things that way, straight up. He always says no. You can’t be blunt with him, you have to just gently nod him and prod him, you know? You have to use a certain amount of finesse, otherwise, he’ll curl in on himself like a snail. I know this is not what he wants. Being _just friends_ is not what he wants… I know him. I know he likes you, he’s just scared about proceeding. He doesn’t like situations that make him emotionally uncomfortable. He usually just punches people in the face. Or _he_ gets punched in the face for annoying everyone. But he wants to be happy, I know he does, he just doesn’t know how to get there. He thinks he can’t do it… But I’ve known him for a year now. I know he would be a good boyfriend, and a good lover. He’s caring and sweet in private. And he wants to be with you. I know he does. It’s just the matter of getting him to admit it and move past this.”

“Hm… Well, what do you think I should do, then?” Adrian whispered into the crown of her head. Sypha smiled and pressed her cheek against his chest, settling in for the night. Adrian couldn’t see the impish gleam in her eyes in the darkness.

  
“ _Seduce him._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review, my friends. 
> 
> Also, I'm sorry this chapter took so long.


	21. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor's team wins a game so they decide to have a party, and Adrian and Sypha are invited. Subsequent games of drunken lust occur. 
> 
> **There are homophobic elements in this chapter and the following chapter. Just so you know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hello! I'm sorry for the long wait. I'm a real-life college student and I had finals. My semesters are shorter and harder this year, but now I should be able to post regularly because I have a couple of months off for winter break! Enjoy :)

Adrian's first outfit:

Givenchy derby shoes [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/givenchy-bar-pin-detail-derby-shoes-item-16018672.aspx?storeid=9600 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/givenchy-bar-pin-detail-derby-shoes-item-16018672.aspx?storeid=9600)

Alexander McQueen skull print shirt [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/alexander-mcqueen-skull-print-shirt-item-16022478.aspx?storeid=9148 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/alexander-mcqueen-skull-print-shirt-item-16022478.aspx?storeid=9148)

Red Corduroy trousers [ https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/supreme-corduroy-work-trousers-item-14373299.aspx?storeid=11218 ](https://www.farfetch.com/shopping/men/supreme-corduroy-work-trousers-item-14373299.aspx?storeid=11218)

* * *

**Adrian's $3,000 party shirt** (worn partially unbuttoned, tucked into leather pants)

[ https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/saint-laurent-sheer-collarless-button-down-blouse-prod226700603?utm_source=google_shopping&adpos=&scid=scplpsku190412493&sc_intid=sku190412493&ecid=NMCS__GooglePLA&gclid=Cj0KCQjwtsv7BRCmARIsANu-CQdKa9neH6zM61WIlcJXOpwNQ1_T5EmgI_TsoWH_XS2j3N5SiDnEL9AaApG-EALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds ](https://www.neimanmarcus.com/p/saint-laurent-sheer-collarless-button-down-blouse-prod226700603?utm_source=google_shopping&adpos=&scid=scplpsku190412493&sc_intid=sku190412493&ecid=NMCS__GooglePLA&gclid=Cj0KCQjwtsv7BRCmARIsANu-CQdKa9neH6zM61WIlcJXOpwNQ1_T5EmgI_TsoWH_XS2j3N5SiDnEL9AaApG-EALw_wcB&gclsrc=aw.ds)

Celine boots [ https://www.celine.com/en-us/celine-shop-men/shoes/boots/celine-jacno-chelsea-boot-in-shiny-calfskin-333363174C.38NO.html ](https://www.celine.com/en-us/celine-shop-men/shoes/boots/celine-jacno-chelsea-boot-in-shiny-calfskin-333363174C.38NO.html)

Sypha’s party outfit: [ https://us.shein.com/Ruched-Drawstring-Side-Rib-knit-Dress-p-1364365-cat-1727.html?url_from=adplaswdress07200630573M_ssc&gclid=CjwKCAiA7939BRBMEiwA-hX5J6L-RLAA62rikTg0mP7m9b8DoUqeF8e8f7h0iLMKP2uVldfxgGYHwhoC_W4QAvD_BwE ](https://us.shein.com/Ruched-Drawstring-Side-Rib-knit-Dress-p-1364365-cat-1727.html?url_from=adplaswdress07200630573M_ssc&gclid=CjwKCAiA7939BRBMEiwA-hX5J6L-RLAA62rikTg0mP7m9b8DoUqeF8e8f7h0iLMKP2uVldfxgGYHwhoC_W4QAvD_BwE)

* * *

At last, it was March. A shared feeling of excitement was building up around campus as they came closer and closer to Spring Break. Everyone was busy, but as soon as students began to finish their exams, parties broke out across campus, some starting as soon as Tuesday. Trevor had already been to one, despite having a paper due at the end of the week. He was a self-proclaimed “master of procrastination” and pulled off A quality papers the night before they were due. Besides, he figured that his exams were going well enough that he would survive with a mediocre grade on the rest of his midterms. He was very distracted by the intense hockey games that week and the massive frat parties that would inevitably follow. And they had just won against Syracuse University, a feat that had put everyone in the partying mood.

Trevor came out of the gym shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. His popular teammate Brian bumped into him immediately, pushing Trevor around a bit and slapping his shoulder.

“That was a fucking barnburner! Holy sh-it,” his voice broke out into celebratory song. Trevor smiled widely, nodding.

“Yeah it was, you were fucking great.” Brian was an incredibly talented defenseman on their team.

“Thanks.”

One of his teammates in the far corner of the locker room started belting out Queen’s “We Are The Champions.” The steamy changing room was buzzing with energy and excitement after their win against Syracuse. Smiles all around. Trevor was mildly happy with it, but he had been in a strange mood for weeks and one victory wasn’t enough to bring him to full happiness. It would take several drinks for him to feel as good as they were feeling. Bryan noticed that he wasn’t as ecstatic as the rest of them, following him over to his locker as he started getting dressed. Trevor tried not to blush, quickly pulling on his underwear, eyes darting over to his teammate who seemed unfazed by watching him change. Brian was straight as an arrow, and he probably didn't think anything of it. He was glaring, though, and it made Trevor feel weird.

“What?” He huffed, catching Brian’s raised eyebrow.

“What’s up with you lately, Trevor? You seem…” he drifted off, thinking, “I dunno. Different. Like something’s bothering you. You’re not acting like your normal self.” Trevor sighed, putting on Old Spice deodorant and pulling a t-shirt over his head.

“I’m fine,” he scoffed, but Brian wasn’t convinced. He glared harder, searching Trevor’s face. Then Gabe approached them, already dressed. He smelled fresh after showering, but the pervasive scent of Axe was a bit overwhelming.

“Hey, are you guys comi-” he stopped at their strange expressions, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Trevor asserted, putting on some black jeans. Brian looked over to curly-haired Gabe, a scowl lingering on his handsome face.

“Something’s wrong with Trevor. He’s acting different or something. I dunno… he won’t tell me what it is.” Gabe laughed a little.

“I think I know what it is.”

“What?” Trevor snapped to look at his lanky young friend. He wasn’t expecting that.

“You’re horny,” he smirked, crossing his arms, “That’s what it is. You're fucking horny.” Brian and another teammate burst out laughing. Trevor chuckled in embarrassment, running a comb through his dark hair.

“Shut up, Gabe,” he droned. Brian looked over, still getting dressed at his locker.

“What’s going on, Trevor? You usually get more pussy than me. Why are you horny?” 

“That’s not it-” he tried to stop Gabe, but he kept going.

“It is! I know it is. Sarah said that you used to fuck her roommate pretty often. Lexi? The hot football cheerleader? And lately, you’ve been straight up ignoring her texts.” A couple of the guys turned their heads at that, looking at Trevor like he had grown a second head.

“You ignored a booty call? From a hot cheerleader? What- What’s the matter with you? Are you crazy?” A teammate laughed at him, shaking his head. Brian walked over, fully dressed.

"Where are my boges?" Trevor sighed, trying to change the subject by searching for his cigarettes. Brian didn't care.

“Ignoring your fuck buddy," he shook his head in disapproval, "I mean, who the hell does that? Who ignores hot pussy? There has to be something wrong, Trevor, just tell us what it is.”

“I was busy. Midterms are coming up.”

“Bull- _shit_ ,” Bryan rejected the ideas, “We both know you study the morning before a test and do just fine. That’s not a fucking excuse. Did she piss you off or something?”

“No.” _Fucking shut up!_

“Did - did she give you something?” Gabe asked, “Like an STD?”

“ _No_ , _I don’t have a fucking STD_ , I always wear a condom. Leave me alone, guys, I’m fine.” He packed up his gym bag, wanting to get out of the loud, steamy room that felt much more uncomfortable than it did before, even if his teammates weren’t trying to be mean. He just didn’t want to stay so long that they reached the right answer.

“Oh, wait- you haven’t-” Brian stepped in closer, voice quieting down, “you haven’t caught feelings for someone, have you?” He was smirking, and Trevor didn’t know if he was trying to insult or just teasing him playfully. Brian wasn’t the type to have girlfriends. He was a notorious fuckboy, and he usually slept with most of the attractive freshman by the middle of the semester. Gabe sort of slapped his broad shoulder, laughing.

“Oh my god, you have! You have a crush on somebody, don’t you?” He chuckled at the idea and Brian joined in. Trevor started to put his jacket on, wanting to avoid the question entirely but he knew he probably couldn’t. _Shut up, shut up, shut up._

“Wow. _Wow._ You got a crush on some girl, huh? Who? Tell us, tell us.”

“Yeah, come on, _tell us, Trevor!_ ” Bryan’s smirk deepened, “Who is she? She obviously won’t let you put it in her for some reason, otherwise, you wouldn’t be so pent up.” 

“I’m not pent up.”

“Trevor, stop denying it. We won’t make fun of you," Gabe insisted, "I have a girlfriend. Who is she?” 

He was silent for a moment, the commotion of the locker room quieting down a bit. A few other guys were listening in on their conversation.

“Oh, wait? Is it- is it Sypha?” Gabe sort of whispered, but it wasn’t very quiet.

“Sypha? Oh, maybe. She’s dating Dracula’s son… are you getting jealous, huh? Wish that you were fucking that pussy instead of him?” Bryan laughed. Trevor sort of groaned and slung his bag over his shoulder. _Shut your goddamn mouth._ He pocketed his phone, turning around to face them. His expression clearly showed how much he wanted to avoid the discussion. 

“Is that getting you, you know, frustrated?” Gabe snickered, and after a fierce glare from Trevor, he stopped. Trevor was not someone to be pissed off, and he could throw a mean punch, everyone knew that. “That’s rough… Sorry, I’m sure that’s not fun.” Trevor was surprised when he felt Bryan’s muscled arm on his shoulder, clasping him tightly.

“Why don’t you try to get with her anyway? Sometimes that turns girls on, you know?”

“Cheating? Yeah, no. They’re my friends. I don’t wanna do that.”

“ _Argh_ … Tell you what? The party tonight is gonna be full of girls. Lots of drunk freshmen. Easy prey.”

“ _Prey?!_ What the fuck is wrong with you?” Trevor scoffed, pushing Brian off his arm.

“Hey, you know what I mean. Lots of nice, tight, available pussy. Gabe invited the girl’s gymnastics team. Do you know how _flexible_ those chicks are? Fucking insane. They’re really hot, too. Pick off the prettiest one and have fun with her. Or two. Or three. You’ll get over Sypha, I promise. You just need to get back at it... Plenty of pussy in the sea.”

Trevor groaned at him, rolling his eyes. _Jackass._

"Come on, don't be a hardass. I invited every sloot I know," Gabe chuckled, using the frat term 'sloot' instead of 'slut'. “Oh, and I actually know a really cute redhead girl that’s coming tonight. My girlfriend’s friend, what’s her name? Anya or Anna or something. She’s really hot. Red hair, cute perky tits. You’ll like her. I’m sure. She’s really fun.”

“ _Perky tits?_ How do you know what her tits look like, you fucked her already?” Brian laughed at Gabe’s description, slinging his own bag over his shoulder, ready to go. 

“No, no, she doesn’t wear a bra. The other day she was wearing a white t-shirt with no bra underneath, we could all see her pink nipples through the thing,” he huffed, “Do they do that on purpose?” Bryan nodded.

“Fuck yeah they do. It’s advertising. They were really cute, right?” He gestured to his chest.

“Uh-uh.”

“That was fuckin' advertising. She’s on the market, ready to go. How’s that sound, Trevor? A nice juicy redhead? That’ll cheer you up, huh?"

_I think I might punch you in the face, dickwad._

"You just need to get laid. You’ll get over her. Come on,” he started walking off, indicating for Trevor to follow.

“What?” _No, I don't wanna-_

“Come with me. We have to get shit for the party. I guess you can drop off your bag at your dorm on the way. Gabe, we’ll meet you in an hour or so, okay?” 

“Okay.”

Trevor begrudgingly followed behind.

* * *

Meanwhile, Adrian sat at his kitchen counter, picking at some limp noodles with chopsticks. Sypha was humming, moving around the apartment, cleaning up her things. Her socks, sweaters, and barrettes were scattered throughout. She had a bad habit of leaving little bits of her wherever she went. After her stuff was all picked up, she came back into the kitchen, humming to herself. Then she opened a drawer, looking for a lighter. She wanted to smoke a joint before her evening class. The professor was a pain in the ass.

“Hey, where’s your lighter? And your cigarettes?”

“I had to throw them out. No smoking allowed,” he sighed, disillusioned. 

“Oh.” Sypha sighed and put her joint back in a ziplock baggie, tucking it away. She cleaned up the kitchen instead. That was a different way to clear her head. She threw away takeout boxes, washed her dishes, and cleaned the countertop. Soft jazz played on Adrian’s CTC stereo in the background. After a while, she caught a glimpse of Adrian’s expression, his handsome frown and downcast golden eyes. 

“Is the takeout that bad?” She laughed lightly, smiling and rubbing his back. He said nothing for a moment, not even stirring. But then he turned and blinked out of a reverie.

“What? Oh. No, I’m just - I’m not hungry.” He pushed the bowl away. Sypha supposed that was part of the reason he was so thin. Always losing his appetite. She moved to sit next to him on a barstool.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Her hands naturally gravitated to his hair, slipping through the silken strands. Adrian pressed his lips together and then relaxed him, his gaze falling down into his lap. He sighed lightly, eyes unfocused.

“Adrian?” She probed, and he snapped to look at her. She was wearing his big white hoodie and pink panties, nothing else, her red bob curly and poofy as always. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know what is wrong exactly, it’s just… it’s something. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what it is Sypha. It’s hard to put my finger on.”

“Well,” she sighed, “usually when we’re sad it’s because we don’t like our current situation. We either want something we don’t have. Or some _one_ we don’t have.” Her voice dropped at the last phrase. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was gloomy because he missed Trevor. The two of them had something special but Trevor kept drawing away and it was saddening him. She could tell, and being perceptive was part of her nature. Sypha wrapped her arm around Adrian sideways.

“Is it Trevor? You miss him, right? He hasn’t been hanging out with us much lately.”

“It’s-” Adrian sat up straight, glancing at his girlfriend, “It’s not just that. I mean, that’s a part of it, but no, that’s not it.” 

“Just tell me what it is. Whatever you’re feeling.”

“I feel like I had a moment- a glimpse of the life that I wanted to live. A brief moment where I was being exactly who I wanted to be. Being myself. And now it’s gone. And I… I’m not who I’m supposed to be anymore. Or maybe I never even was myself, but at least I was more of myself than I’d ever been.” Sunlight fell on Adrian’s pale cheek and hair while he spoke a soliloquy. But Sypha liked how emotive he was, and how thoughtful he could be, even though it was hardest for him to think about what it was that he wanted himself. She ran her hand over his long blonde hair, humming a little.

“What do you feel now? How do you feel about yourself?”

He stared at the fridge idly, mouth moving a little before he spoke, like the words were on the tip of his tongue.

“I feel like I’m being exactly who my parents want me to be… who I’m supposed to be… but it’s not - me. It’s not who I want to be. I can feel it. It just doesn’t sit right.” 

“Really?” She tried not to get worried, but she had no idea where he was going with this.

“All my life, I’ve been on a track. Like, when I was born, I was just strapped into a roller coaster seat and my dad pushed the button. And he designed the roller coaster, all of it. And my mom was on another one, and all of the roller coasters were a part of this massive theme park that he had designed, and he built all of it in his mind,” he was deep in thought, Sypha could tell, and he stood up, beginning to animate, “Private school, AVENUES, Ivy League, Internship at CTC, tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk,” he clicked, imitating the sound of a wooden roller coaster.

“And there’s all these little hoops to jump through and things to accomplish, the things he set for me when I was a kid. Win the school spelling bee, learn fencing, get first place in all the violin competitions, get straight As, win at the fucking NYC FIRST robotics competition. I did all of that. Then it was like, initiation to become a straight man or something. Making me wear what he wants me to wear, trying to make me cut my hair, stop wearing black, go to fancy parties and talk with old billionaires I don’t like, seem like I’m doing something important at the company even though I’m not making any decisions, change my major to programming, go on business trips everywhere and learn how it all works, get a girlfriend-” he stopped himself, looking at Sypha and feeling guilty for that one. He let out a harsh breath. Sypha nodded from the barstool. 

“I’m a part of the plan,” she huffed, wishing that it wasn’t true, but she was sure it was.

“Sorry.” _I shouldn’t have said that._ “What I mean is just, he - he wanted me to date you, and I did. I mean, I wanted to date you before, and I didn’t tell him, because he micromanages my whole life and I wanted something of my own, but then he made me tell him. And he said he liked you and told me I should date you and how to ask you out and,” an aggravated sigh, “I ended up doing exactly what he told me to do. Again. And I like you, a lot, but it’s still something about how-”

“Mgh?” She nodded, eyes focused on him as he tried to explain.

“How he tries to coerce and manipulate me into doing things. Being straight, dressing normal, winning the fucking NYC robotics competition when I was 14.” 

“You won an NYC robotics competition?” She asked, lightening the tension.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “you can see it if you want. I have a picture. But my dad put it in a glass case and kept it in his home office… he used to care when I won things. Now I think I’ve won so much that it doesn’t matter anymore. And I’ve pretty much always won- at competitions like that anyway. I think I’m boring him at this point, or he just doesn’t care anymore. Maybe it used to be exciting to have me win things, but by now he just expects it like anything else and doesn’t really care. He’s gotten used to me being perfect, and doing exactly what he wants, like his dog. Or his puppet. _Urgh!_ ” Adrian groaned. “And I was just about to cut him off. I was _so close_. And then he…” 

“Yeah?” Sypha asked, getting up and approaching him.

“Then he makes me love him again. He acts like he did when I was little, and he’s so nice, and he draws me back in. And I can’t do it.” He gripped the counter, hair falling over his shoulders. Sypha sighed deeply. 

“Come on, come sit down.” They went to the couch and she rubbed her boyfriend’s shoulders a little. “I hear what you’re saying, Adrian. "It’s really complicated.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“So, you’re sick of doing everything your dad wants you to do? And then getting very little back after all that effort?”

“Well, it’s not just that. He wants to- he’s always controlled me on a deep, deep level. He’s manipulative. I know that he is. I just- it’s hard, when it’s your Dad. And I know that I shouldn't do what he says, and I should say no more, but it’s just fruitless. At least it seems that way. He’s so smart, Sypha. He can dig his way out of anything. And he always knows what to say, how to make me like him again. Even if I try really hard not to listen and to just focus on hating him, being really mad at him. He can coax me out of it and somehow I’m always crying and then he’s the savior and he’s holding me in his arms, comforting me, even though _he’s the one_ who fucking started it, _he’s the one_ who hurt me in the first place, _he’s the one_ who’s always controlling everything, fucking meddling in everything.” He let out a breath and dropped his head, out of energy. Sypha could tell he was about to cry because he put his hand over his face. She felt for him, her face falling and rubbing his broad shoulders. 

“I know… I’m sorry, Adrian. Come here, you can cry in front of me. Only real men can cry in front of their girlfriends... I know this is really hard for you. It sounds awful.” She brushed his hair back. Adrian gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to still his tears. Only one escaped and Sypha kissed it. Then she kissed his lips.

“There has to be something you can do. Something to make your life your own. What is it he’s making you do that you hate?”

“Well, actually, he let me stop working for the company. I quit the internship or whatever my fake title was. My mom made him. And the major,” he sighed, “I guess it’s fine. I would rather do art but - he's letting me take one art class. That’s all I’m allowed.” _Fuck my life._

“Jesus. Well, what are the things you want to do that he won’t let you do?”

“ _Be myself!_ That’s what I want to do. But I can’t do that. I wish I had freedom in my life… but I don’t. I wish-” he started, but then he stopped himself. Sypha scowled.

“You wish what?”

“I wish I could be myself without restrictions. I wish I could just wear my own clothes and not the ones he pre-screens, and eat junk food, and smoke, and go to parties, and sleep with a guy. Not that I want to do that stuff all the time… but just once would be nice. Just once.”

“Dracula doesn’t let you go to parties? Or eat junk food?”

“Nope. Never been to one. Not a real one. Occasionally I’d go to people’s apartments in the city, just for a brief time in high school, and we would drink together, but that wasn’t a party. Only like four or five people. And I went twice before he made me stop. Said it was a waste of time and that I should be studying for the ACT. My math score was too low…” he drifted back in time again. “And I’ve never been able to eat junk food. Both of my parents are strict about that. I grew up with a Michelin rated personal chef. When I was a kid, I ate couscous and vegetable quiche. Never even had a chicken nugget. Candy was reserved for Halloween and Christmas. And even then only three. I guess that’s smart. But yeah, I’m still not allowed to do that stuff. One time I had some gummy worms on a plane and my dad made me throw them out. He said it was embarrassing to eat them, that adults don’t eat that sort of thing.”

“ _Que demonios_ …” Sypha drifted off laughing, “You’re dad’s a control freak, honey. Come on,” she stood up. “Come on.” Suddenly there was a smile on her face and Adrian didn’t know why. 

“What are we doing?” She led him into the bedroom and unzipped his sweatshirt, standing in front of him in only her panties. Adrian raised an eyebrow at her but then she began going through her bag and taking out clothes. She pulled a sports bra over her head.

“We’re going to go out. Get dressed, Adrian, come on. Your dad’s not here. You can live your life.” _Live my life? What-_

“What are you planning?” He wondered.

“Well, first of all, wear whatever you want! No rules. Come in the closet. Come into the closet so you can get out of the closet. What do you want to wear? Come on! Pick anything.”

Adrian smiled, thinking about it and pulling out a shirt. 

“Well, I love this shirt, but Dad says I can’t wear it because it’s too goth.” It was a slightly oversized black and white button-down shirt with repeating drawings of abstract skulls. 

“Wear it! It’s super cool,” she smiled, kneeling on his ottoman and watching him dress.

“Okay, then I’d wear these pants with it. I’ve never worn them.” He held up a pair of red corduroy pants. “And these shoes!” He got excited, moving to the shoe display and picking up a pair of Givenchy derby shoes with a thick sole and a safety pin accessory.

“Put them on!” Once they were dressed they went to the convenience store and Sypha bought Adrian another lighter and a pack of Malboros, along with a colorful bag of sour gummy worms and some bright red Swedish Fish. 

“Let’s get something crappy to mix with. You never drink normal crappy college drinks, you should try some.”

“Like what?” 

“Like a Long Island Iced tea made with cheap iced tea and tequila. Or rum and coke.”

“Sounds delicious. Yeah, we can - Wait, I got a text…” he pulled out his phone.

[Trevor] 

Trevor (8:51 pm) Hey- we’re having a party tonight because we beat syracuse

Trevor (8:52 pm) wanna come?? You can bring sypha

“Trevor just invited us to a party,” he blinked up at her. _I’ve never been invited to a campus party before..._ Sypha smiled with glee.

“ _Let’s go!_ That’s perfect.” She jumped up, bouncing on her heels, something she always did when she was excited, “Come on, let’s go get ready!”

* * *

An hour later, they were pulling up to the frat house in an Uber. Sypha had a short dress on and ran inside as fast as possible to avoid the cold. It was just above freezing that night in Rochester, and her long-sleeved minidress was not going to keep her warm. Adrian was fully dressed, and approached far more slowly. He looked up at the large house, a little intimidated, the strong porch lights reflecting off his golden eyes. Fear clenched his throat, and he looked back to see the Uber driving off. _No turning back now._ He could already hear the pounding bass inside, and he couldn’t decide whether it was alluring or repellant. Trepidation mixed with excitement within him as he took a few steps forward. _I’ve never even been to a college party… what a freak._ But after a few moments, upon hearing happy voices inside, Adrian was resolved. Fun was new territory. And rebellion was unexplored, he hadn’t ventured there yet. Not really. _Just go inside._ Adrian pushed down the anxiousness in his heart along with the omnipresent voice of his father in his head telling him he couldn't go inside. The loud party music and cloying scent of weed coming from the house forewarned him, screaming danger, and he knew he was not allowed. But something in him pushed onward, a slowly rising feeling of boldness and rebellion, and he opened the door. Drake's song 'God's Plan' immediately filled his head, the noise incredibly loud.

_Yeah they wishin' and wishin' and wishin' and wishin'_

_They wishin' on me, yuh_

_I been movin' calm, don't start no trouble with me_

_Tryna keep it peaceful is a struggle for me_

_Don't pull up at 6 AM to cuddle with me_

It was shocking how different the inside was from the outside. Cold air and muffled quietude ceased immediately and hot, humid commotion enveloped him. The house was almost totally full. People were everywhere, squeezed together in some places, crowding the rooms. Adrian couldn’t even see any furniture, just people, and the rapidly changing neon lights that colored the room pink, then orange, then green. The psychedelic flashing colors only seemed to increase the intensity of the sound. Drake’s voice covered the multitude of noises in the room.

_You know how I like it when you lovin' on me_

_I don't wanna die for them to miss me_

_Yes I see the things that they wishin' on me_

_Hope I got some brothers that outlive me_

_They gon' tell the story, shit was different with me_

Adrian felt totally overwhelmed, looking around blankly for a place to hang his jacket. He turned to the place where he assumed the coat closet was and startled when he nearly bumped into a couple making out right in front of him. The wet sounds of their kissing and throaty moans took him off guard.

_God's plan, God's plan_

_I hold back, sometimes I won't, yuh_

_I feel good, sometimes I don't, ayy, don't_

_I finessed down Weston Road, ayy, 'nessed_

_Might go down a G-O-D, yeah, wait_

_I go hard on Southside G, yuh, Way_

_I make sure that north side eat_

_And still_

“Excuse me,” he insisted, trying to politely move them aside, “The coat closet.” It was hard not to shout in such a large, crowded place. They barely shifted aside and went back at it, so Adrian squeezed the door open and placed his designer coat inside. Finding Sypha was no small task. She was a relatively short girl among a sea of college students. And looking around, Adrian second-guessed the outfit he had chosen. Almost everyone was in t-shirt or jerseys. _I overdressed. Jesus, it’s so loud in here._ Moving slowly through the crowded entryway, he made his way to what he assumed was the dining room, trying to hunt for Trevor or Sypha in the mass of people. The crowd suddenly started belting out the lyrics of the song in unison.

_She said, "Do you love me?" I tell her, "Only partly"_

_I only love my bed and my momma, I'm sorry_

Trevor stood amongst his teammates in the kitchen, red solo cup in hand, singing the chorus loudly along with them. He was already half-drunk and dazed when he caught a glimpse of Adrian moving towards him in the crowd. In the midst of all the drunk, grinding party goers, his sober, careful movements seemed like an anomaly. And Adrian was a nonpareil in his eyes, unmatched in beauty and grace. That night was no exception. Once their eyes met across the crowded room, a flicker of excitement brightened both of their faces. Trevor couldn’t help but check him out up and down. He was just tispy enough not to care. 

_God's plan, God's plan_

_I can't do this on my own, ayy, no, ayy_

_Someone watchin' this shit close, yep, close_

_I've been me since Scarlett Road, ayy, road, ayy_

_Might go down as G-O-D, yeah, wait_

_I go hard on Southside G, ayy, Way_

_I make sure that north side eat, yuh_

_And still_

Adrian had on the most expensive homosexual outfit Trevor could ever imagine. _Oh my God._ It was glaringly obvious that he was neither part of the frat nor knowledgeable about college parties at all. Trevor had no idea the loose black translucent shirt was Saint Laurent runway couture. All he saw was his extremely attractive friend coming towards him looking like sex on a stick. The black see-through shirt Adrian wore highlighted the attractive lines and contours of his athletic torso, and his skin-tight leather pants, visible through the shirt, left little to the imagination. The first several buttons of the shirt were undone, showing off his collarbones and pectorals. Tiny sparkly beads in the shirt’s fabric caught the changing lights and made him literally glitter. Trevor couldn’t look away. _Looks like bloody lingerie. Wow. Christ, he looks so good._ Adrian blushed, realizing that Trevor was obviously checking him out. Then his expression changed a bit when he realized that not just Trevor, but also his frat buddies were pursuing his form very carefully. 

“Hey,” he greeted, trying to speak over the loud music and party commotion surrounding them.

“ _Hey!_ ” Trevor tried to shake himself out of that line of thought, coming back to reality. Heavy bass music pounded around them, and a few sweaty seniors pushed past. There were far too many people in the house.

_Paso mis noches pensando en ti (Nio)_

_Aquí en mi cama extrañándote (yeah-yeah-yeah)_

_Y a donde voy todo me acuerda a ti_

_Después de estoy yo ya me cansé_

“This is my friend, Adrian. Adrian, these are the guys,” Trevor shouted so he could hear him, “Gabe, Joe, and Brian. They’re on my team.”

“I heard you guys won tonight,” he nodded, trying to have some semblance of a conversation with them. He had no idea what to say to frat guys, though. Brian, the ridiculously handsome senior douche bag, nodded and gave him a look that Adrian had seen many times before from straight males. It was a pursing of the teeth, a heavy eye contact that said ‘leave me alone, you fucking queer’. Adrian looked away immediately after that. He had no interest in getting to know Trevor’s teammates, not at all. 

_Bebé, yo te boté y te boté_

_Te di banda y te solté, yo te solté_

_Pa'l carajo te mandé, yo te mande_

_Y de mi vida te saqué, yo te saqué (esta es la verdadera vuelta oíste baby)_

_Bebé yo te boté_

“So, you’re Vlad Dracula’s son, right?” Gabe asked loudly, looking down at Adrian’s exposed chest before moving back up to his eyes. Adrian wondered briefly if he was checking for breasts, given the incessant attention paid to that particular area. He knew his androgynous appearance made people look twice at him, especially when his hair was down and styled like it was that night, but it felt more aggressive than usual.

“Yes.” He had been excited to have an occasion to wear the sensual outfit, but apparently, it was not appropriate, given that he was in designer couture in a room full of cotton t-shirts and synthetic jerseys. Trevor was wearing a hockey jersey, himself, and Adrian wondered if he was getting hot due to the temperature of the room. It was almost unbearably warm, and Adrian was relieved to be at least slightly separate from the mass of sweaty bodies in the living room, gyrating in a drunken stupor. 

_Y desde que te di esa bota, las gatas son de tres en tres (eso es así)_

_Si tú quieres, pregunta si no me crees (hey)_

_Que ya no tengo estrés, pa' completar la fila son express (je, je)_

_Tú viste como el mundo se te fue al revés y yo con ella en RD_

_Es que me enamoré el día que la probé_

_Ya yo no creo que vuelva y te dé_

_Mami, porque el servicio te lo cancelé_

“Do you want a drink?” Trevor asked, smiling and lightening the tension or awkwardness between them. It was obvious that they didn’t socialize with non-heterosexual men and Adrian could feel it immediately. He also assumed they had no idea about Trevor. Brian was still staring at him hard, probably mentally critiquing the whole ensemble he had on. He was even wearing a long necklace, a no-go for the average straight guy in America. Then Brian whispered something to a tall black guy behind him, making the other man snicker, and he had no doubt he was being criticized. 

“ _Yes,_ I want a drink.” _Please._

“Do you like Fireball?" Trevor asked, holding up the big bottle, "It’s whiskey.”

“I’m drinking tequila tonight.”

“Okay, we have that. Bacardi. With what? Ginger ale?” He moved around in the crowded kitchen, grabbing the large bottle of Bacardi. They had all congregated around the large island in the center of the kitchen.

“Sure,” he smiled, trying to ignore the other guys and focus on Trevor. 

“You got it!” He danced a little while making the drink for him and sang the lyrics to Travis Scott’s song ‘goosebumps’. 

“ _I get those goosebumps every time, yeah, you come around, yeah. You ease my mind, you make everything feel fine. Worried 'bout those comments, I'm way too numb, yeah. It's way too dumb, yeah._ ”

He wrote Adrian’s name in sharpie on the cup and handed over his drink.

“Thanks. Have you seen Sypha?” Adrian asked, leaning forward on the counter, blonde hair falling over his shoulders. Trevor blinked at the attractive display. 

_I get those goosebumps every time, I need the Heimlich_

_Throw that to the side, yeah_

_I get those goosebumps every time, yeah, when you're not around_

_When you throw that to the side, yeah_

_I get those goosebumps every time, yeah._

He shook his head ‘no’ and looked around. The rooms were almost completely full, people packed in shoulder to shoulder, some dancing, some drinking, and some making out. Sypha was nowhere to be seen. “I dunno. She’ll come over. We’re always in the kitchen, she knows where we are.” Adrian watched Trevor pour a whole row of Fireball shots in small shot glasses. 

“Okay.” He took a drink from his solo cup and Trevor turned to the other guys. 

“Hey Gabe, gimme the aux,” he insisted, and the redhead gave him a look, “Yes! Give me the fucking aux, you fucker. People will love this, just wait.”

“You have shitty taste in music!” Gabe laughed, and Brian smirked smugly, leaning back against the fridge. Other people tried to get into the kitchen for drinks and so Adrian moved towards Trevor, getting out of the way. He felt odd amongst the other students, and given that he was a college party virgin, he stayed quiet, leaning back against the cabinets next to Trevor, brushing against his jersey sleeve.

“I have the best taste in music,” he shouted, “out of all of us. Right, Brian?” He approached the island, looking at all the liquors and beers laid out on its messy surface. 

“...it’s shitty but fun. Like you,” he smirked, taking a drink from his solo cup. Trevor sort of laughed, taking the aux cord and plugging his phone in, quickly putting on something from his playlist. Suddenly his song choice filled the whole house. Adrian realized all the speakers must have been connected to the one aux cord. 

_If you, not drunk ladies and gentlemen_

_Get ready to get fucked up_

_Let's do it, haha, LMFAO_

_You know what_

_Lil' Jon, yeah_

_All of the alcoholics_

_Where you at, let's go_

Gabe laughed and started singing along with the lyrics, and several other frat guys joined in, one huge muscled guy approaching the island and slapping Trevor on the shoulder. Adrian leaned back to avoid running into him.

_When I walk in the club_

_All eyes on me_

_I'm with the party rock crew_

_All drinks are free_

_We like Ciroc, we love Patron_

_We came to party rock_

“Jack, come on, come on,” everyone seemed to be rushing to do something, and Adrian didn’t understand until Trevor handed him a shot of Fireball with an excited look on his face. The acrid smell did not make Adrian so excited, but he took it quickly anyway. 

_Everybody it's on_

_Shots! shots! shots!_ _shots! shots! shots!_

“Fuck!” Trevor laughed, shaking his head as the alcohol went down his throat. Adrian followed suit, and Trevor watched him toss it back and cringe as it burned, lips puckering.

_Shots! shots! shots! shots! shots! Shots!_

“Are you okay?” He asked, leaning a little too far, pushing them both back. Adrian felt the cabinets on his back, digging into his back.

“Yeah,” he huffed, “I’m good… it’s so loud in here!” The obnoxious music was starting to get on Adrian’s nerves a bit. Trevor shrugged, then he looked around and, after finding that no one was paying attention to him, leaned back and whispered to Adrian, getting very close to him. The blonde man tried not to blush at his closeness. 

“Is this your first party? Like, the first one you’ve been to at college?” He asked, tickling Adrian a little bit. Trevor's low voice was a major turn on, and Adrian felt himself getting warmer because of it.

_Everybody, everybody_

_The ladies love us_

_When we pour shots_

_They need an excuse_

_To suck our cocks_

_We came to get drunk_

_How about you?_

_Bottles up_

“Yes,” he whispered back, laughing a little. Trevor backed up, steadying himself with a hand on the cabinets. Adrian caught a glimpse of Brian staring at them but the other man quickly looked away, so he dismissed it. He supposed Trevor was already too drunk to think about the way he was standing next to him. He took in Trevor’s gorgeous face for a moment, blushing because he looked even more attractive up close, as did his blue eyes in the neon light. Trevor chuckled and then he leaned back in to whisper in his ear again.

“I can tell,” he teased, and Adrian wondered if the sultry tone he had was on purpose or not. Given the twinkle in his eyes, Adrian guessed it was purposeful. He smiled, grabbing his drink and Trevor walked away, grabbing his phone and changing songs. 

_Shawty had them Apple Bottom Jeans (jeans)_

_Boots with the fur (with the fur)_

_The whole club was lookin' at her_

_She hit the floor (she hit the floor)_

_Next thing you know_

_Shawty got low low low low low low low low_

“Hey, I’m gonna go check on Sypha, I’ll be back,” Adrian said to Trevor as he passed by. The humid, packed house was hard to navigate, but Adrian managed. The blaring music and psychotropic lights didn’t help him to find her, but he did, eventually. She was in the four seasons extension, smoking from her pen and laughing with who Adrian assumed were her friends. 

_Them baggy sweat pants and the Reebok's with the straps (the straps)_

_She turned around and gave that big booty a smack (a smack)_

_She hit the floor_

_Next thing you know_

_Shawty got low low low low low low low low_

“ _Adrian!_ Hey,” she smiled, grabbing him and giving him a quick kiss. He smiled, trying to not cringe at the very heavy smell of weed in the room and all around her. He found the smell of weed cloying and sickly sweet. But she looked incredibly hot while she was smoking for some reason, perhaps the sweet shape of her face and pink lips as she sucked on the electric vape. “Do you want a little?” 

Adrian looked around for a moment, and he could obviously tell that people were judging his outfit yet again, so he turned back to Sypha and nodded. _I should not have worn this. Fuck…_ He smoked a little, feeling rebellion come over him as he looked over the group. Everyone seemed to be staring at them. Except for one couple that was furiously making out in the corner on a bench. 

“So, are these your friends?” He assumed, exhaling smoke and looking them over. Sypha giggled, already high. She adjusted her cute pastel green mini dress, shrugging and looking at her elegant boyfriend.

_I ain't never seen nothin' that'll make me go, this crazy, all night spendin' my dough_

_Had a million dollar vibe and a bottle to go_

_Dem birthday cakes, they stole the show_

_So sexual, she was flexible_

_Professional, drinkin' X and O_

“Well, yeah, kinda. I just met them,” she smiled. The group either nodded or smiled at him, blinking as they took in his appearance. They were the only ones that dressed up, and Adrian felt extra tall in his heeled Celine boots. _Whatever._

“Nice.” _She can make friends so easily. I wish I was like that._

“I was in Neuroscience with you, actually,” a black-haired girl said, leaning against the wall, “my name’s Becky.”

“Hey, oh yeah, I remember.”

“Is he the super smart guy you were always talking about?” A stranger asked, Becky’s friend, he presumed. The raven-haired girl laughed. She was wearing a sweatshirt and braids, also smoking from a vape pen. 

“Well, yeah. You're Dracula’s son, right? People said you were.”

“Yes.” _Jesus._

“ _Wow_ , that’s amazing! What-what’s he like?” The stranger with glasses asked. _Can’t even escape him for one night._

“Ah, he’s unique,” Adrian felt awkward trying to describe a man that was almost indescribable, “and very smart, yeah. Kind of intense.”

“And your mom’s a doctor? That’s sick.” He laughed, and Adrian noted the red of his eyes. Then he passed the vape pen back to Sypha and nodded, making himself smile.

“Yeah! She is. In Manhattan.”

“My mom works in Manhattan too, but she’s a lawyer. Haven’t been there in a while.” Becky coughed after a long drag. “Do you go back often?”

“Pretty often, yeah,” he nodded again, and the movement was a bit clumsy. He could feel himself getting drunker. “I actually took Sypha there for a weekend, not too long ago.”

“It was _amazing!_ We went clubbing, and shopping. He showed me the city,” she explained in her Spanish accent, “We had the best time.” Suddenly Adrian remembered what he had wanted to ask Sypha. 

“Hey,” he whispered into her ear, “Can we talk for a minute?” 

“Yeah,” she exhaled, turning off her pen. “Let’s go… over there.” She found a small space by the stairs that didn’t have people in it. Adrian was a bit nervous, and totally out of his element, but he decided to tell her anyway. “What’s up?”

“So, I was with Trevor and,” he blushed, looking around to make sure no one was there, “I think he was kind of flirting with me.”

“What?” She yelled, unable to hear him over the loud music and commotion of the party. Adrian leaned in to whisper in her ear.

“I think Trevor is flirting with me.”

“Oh! Good, good.” She smiled, her face changing from blue, to yellow, to green. The lights were almost obnoxious in the house.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me doing something with him?" He raised his voice a bit, "I want to make sure.”

“Yeah! Absolutely!” She smiled. “Go for it! Seriously.” 

“You’re sure?” He raised an eyebrow. She laughed.

“Yes, I’m not possessive. You can have sex with him if you want. Just don’t forget about me. I’d miss you,” she laughed, shouting and high as hell. Adrian was going to say something but she kissed him suddenly, crushing their lips together. He startled but leaned down to kiss her for a while. She was horny, he could tell, and that only spurred on the excitement already within him. It felt exhilarating to kiss her in public, even if no one was watching them where they were. Finally, he let her go, music pounding in his ears and his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to stop before he got too hard but he still groaned a little bit at the separation. 

“Do you know how fucking cute you look in that dress?” He asked, looking down at the bodycon mint green tie dress that showed off all her assets. It looked really good with her strawberry hair and freckles, too. She giggled, kissing him again. She knew she looked great in it.

“Thanks,” then her face changed, “Now you go. Go and fuck Trevor. Or make out with him at least. He’s been super horny for weeks and it’s driving me crazy. Go on now.” She shooed him, stepping away and smirking impishly over her shoulder as she ventured back into the crowd, leaving Adrian blinking in confusion. 

_This shit got me in my feelings_

_Gotta be real with it, yup_

_Kiki, do you love me? Are you riding?_

_Say you'll never ever leave from beside me_

_'Cause I want ya, and I need ya (let's go, let's go, let's go)_

When he came back into the kitchen Trevor was drinking alone, his annoying frat buddies had apparently left. He was looking into the dancing crowd in the living room, watching sweaty bodies moving in a multitudinous mess. Adrian found it adorable how he danced solo, red solo cup in hand. The strobe lights painted him in gold, red, green, blue. It was psychedelic, in a way. He tapped Trevor’s shoulder, and he smiled when he saw Adrian next to him.

“Hey, did you find Sypha?” He asked, leaning close to Adrian’s ear so he could hear. 

“Yeah, she’s smoking in the other room.”

“Cool. Hey, do you wanna pick the next song?” His full lips formed an attractive smirk, and Adrian already was feeling the urge to kiss him. _Damn._

“Sure,” he shouted, grabbing Trevor’s cracked old iPhone. He scrolled for a bit, Trevor watching him, standing closer than he needed to, even in the crowded space. Adrian could feel his body heat, and the silkiness of his sports jersey as he moved. He didn’t know why it felt so exciting when Trevor put his arm around him, leaning over to see what he selected. Adrian turned his head and Trevor’s face was very close, too close. He enjoyed the view of his side profile, and the proximity to the hockey player’s beautiful lips was getting to be very hard to ignore. He was already turned on from Sypha’s passionate kisses just a minute earlier.

“Oh, I like that song,” Trevor complimented, “it’s a fucking good one. Do you want another drink, or a joint or something?” Adrian could tell he was already drunk but he decided he didn’t care. For once, he was behaving like someone his own age, and he decided to lean into it. 

“Sure, do you wanna do a shot?”

“Hell yeah. There you are! I knew there was a partier in you somewhere!” Trevor was ecstatic and it was an emotion Adrian wasn’t used to seeing on him. He poured out two shots of tequila and grabbed a couple lime wedges. There was a container of Kosher salt on the island and Trevor just poured out a little into the palm of his hand, holding it out for Adrian. The blonde laughed but accepted, licking some salt out of the palm of his hand, noting how Trevor watched his pink tongue linger for a bit longer than necessary. He then quickly licked up the rest of the salt and they took their shots, then sucked on the limes.

_And I know she'll be the death of me, at least we'll both be numb_

_And she'll always get the best of me, the worst is yet to come_

_But at least we'll both be beautiful and stay forever young_

_This I know, yeah, this I know_

_She told me, don't worry about it_

That night was a brief but wonderful sojourn from his usually dull and taxing life. He decided that he didn’t even care that they had classes tomorrow. He had spent almost all of his life worrying about classes, about grades. And not truly living. Not enjoying himself. 

_She told me, don't worry no more_

_We both know we can't go without it_

_She told me you'll never be in love, oh, oh, woo_

But there was Trevor, his handsome, inebriated friend, always the life of the party. And Adrian knew he wanted him. He could feel it, and the mutual pull was hard to resist. So he decided to let himself get sucked in for once, to fall into the pleasure of lust and excitement of boyish love.

Trevor’s low voice didn’t match the song, and sounded off in a room of college students yelling the lyrics, but he didn’t care. Adrian loved that he didn’t care. And when Trevor started to dance, Adrian easily joined in. Inhibitions be damned. A smile broke out on his face, and the rowdy, loud atmosphere prompted him to forget everything else and enjoy himself. Enjoy the moment and his youth just the same.

  
  


_I can't feel my face when I'm with you_

_But I love it, but I love it, oh_

_I can't feel my face when I'm with you_

_But I love it, but I love it, oh_

Time passed and neither of them could keep track. Life moved at a different pace under the flashing lights and electric bass. It was sensory overload, but after a couple of shots, Adrian decided he liked it. The little voice inside his head was gone, and no uncomfortable thoughts rose up. All there was was movement, life, sound, taste, heat. And Trevor. Trevor was the only thing Adrian could really see in the packed room, and they danced together for a long while. His handsome jaw, his sparkly blue eyes. No one else seemed to look at them or disturb them. Or, perhaps Adrian just no longer noticed people staring at them because of his intoxicated state. 

_And I know she'll be the death of me, at least we'll both be numb_

_And she'll always get the best of me, the worst is yet to come_

_All the misery was necessary when we're deep in love_

_This I know, girl, I know_

_She told me, don't worry about it_

_She told me, don't worry no more_

_We both know we can't go without it_

_She told me you'll never be in love, oh, oh, woo (yeah, yeah, yeah)_

_I can't feel my face when I'm with you_

_But I love it, but I love it, oh_

_I can't feel my face when I'm with you (I can't feel nothing)_

_But I love it (but I love it), but I love it, oh_

Somehow, songs later, Adrian wound up sitting on a counter in the corner of the kitchen. There was just enough space to sit between the ledge and the back cabinets. A collection of empty beer cans and solo cups surrounded him, but he didn’t care, and didn’t even care about the sticky beer mess he was probably sitting on. His mind was full, but not with a single thought. Only with feeling and music. Trevor’s face was the only thing in view, and they had been dancing and singing for what felt like hours. He leaned in once again to whisper in his ear, nose brushing his golden hair.

“Adrian, can I tell you a secret?” It was a little hard to hear Trevor over the high pitched melody of Britney Spears’ classic song _Toxic._

But he said “yes” anyway, and he wanted to know.

_Baby, can't you see?_

_I'm calling_

_A guy like you should wear a warning_

_It's dangerous_

_I'm falling_

_There's no escape_

_I can't wait_

_I need a hit_

_Baby, give me it_

_You're dangerous_

_I'm loving it_

“ _You’re really turning me on tonight_ ,” he sighed lowly, or possibly growled, into Adrian’s ear, and the blonde just then noticed how close he was, edging in between parted thighs. His large hand slid up from Adrian’s knee to his upper thigh, and a lightning bolt of electric lust went through him as a result. Adrian pulled back and looked at Trevor’s lidded, sensual gaze for a moment. There was no deliberation needed, only the expression of mutual desire. Trevor leaned in. 

_Too high_

_Can't come down_

_Losin' my head_

_Spinnin' 'round and 'round_

_Do you feel me now?_

The kiss was intense. Just as intense as their first. A passionate exchange of kisses and moans, both completely lost in the moment, the sound, the feeling. Adrian parted his leather-clad thighs so Trevor could come between them, fully press his hips into Adrian’s, his desire. A small moan escaped his lips and Trevor took the opportunity to kiss him deeper, harder, tongue's tangling together. Adrian loved the taste of lime and spiced whiskey. He felt so alive.

_With a taste of your lips_

_I'm on a ride_

_You're toxic I'm slippin' under_

_With a taste of a poison paradise_

_I'm addicted to you_

_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

_And I love what you do_

_Don't you know that you're toxic?_

Adrian delighted in the feeling and moaned at his touch. Trevor was a fantastic kisser, the best he had ever been with. Something in him just melted, and that moment was one of the most exciting in his entire life. The pure thrill of risk and sexuality. Although there was no conscious thought in Adrian’s mind, he knew, he felt that it was not allowed. He was not allowed to kiss men in public, much less at a college frat party, but his inhibitions had been long abandoned. He wrapped his toned legs around Trevor’s strong body, pulling him in, tasting him. Enjoying him. 

_It's getting late_

_To give you up_

_I took a sip_

_From my devil's cup_

_Slowly, it's taking over me_

Then Trevor dipped down to kiss his neck, his jaw. He sucked and licked and moaned while Adrian clung to his shoulders for dear life, and after a while, with no care in the world, moaned lightly. It didn’t seem to matter, as the party was literally full of couples making out and engaging in a myriad of illicit activities, but Adrian didn’t know that that moment would be immortalized forever.

_Too high_

_Can't come down_

_It's in the air and it's all around_

_Can you feel me now?_

_With a taste of your lips_

_I'm on a ride_

_You're toxic I'm slippin' under_

_With a taste of a poison paradise_

He didn’t see Brian, just out of view, taking a picture of them on his phone. The flash seemed imperceptible among the countless psychedelic colors, and they both had their eyes closed, anyway. Gabe and Brian exchanged looks, mutually cringing and gawking in amazement at what they were seeing. Another team member scooted by, getting out of the room to avoid the sight.

“Fucking gross,” he muttered as he walked by Gabe and Brian who were then taking additional pictures of them. Brian looked down at his phone and typed “what the fuck” into the text bar, posting the erotic photo on his Snapchat story for all of his thousands of friends to see. Messages started coming back almost immediately despite the late hour. Other partygoers were bored and beginning to check their phones. And a considerable number saw Brian's post and replied. 

[replies]

[✓] Is that Trevor? Is he kissing a guy? Ewwwwwww

[✓] He’s gay?!! When did that fucking happen

[✓] WTF!! Does he know that’s a man?! Disgusting.

[✓] So he’s a faggot now. Nasty.

Trevor had no idea the barrage of homophobia against him was occurring. He was too busy in Adrian’s mouth, kissing and sucking on his pink lips and tongue. Eventually, the frat boys went to the basement, leaving them to their own decides. Trevor was starting to get unbearably hard so hard it was uncomfortable, and he pulled away from Adrian to whisper again.

“Come with me, come on,” he pulled Adrian off the counter, leading him through the mass of people. Adrian’s shoes stuck to the sticky, beer-covered ground and people were pushing him as he walked by, but he didn’t let go of Trevor’s firm grip. The other man led him into a small room, the laundry room, it seemed, and he closed the door immediately after they got inside. 

“Fuck, Adrian,” he groaned, kissing him again almost immediately, his heart pounding in his chest. The excitement between them was palpable. Trevor's tan face was flushed and lax with drunkenness and desire. He kissed Adrian again and again until they were breathless and picked him up so he could set him on the washing machine. The blonde huffed, out of breath, and tried to make out Trevor’s form in the near darkness. There was light coming from the party and a nightlight on the wall, but that was it, and so it was hard to see him. 

“What are you doing?” He asked, confused as to why he was on top of the washing machine. Trevor threaded his fingers through Adrian’s silky blonde hair and gave him a crushing kiss. 

“What do you think? I want you so bad,” he mused, laying a kiss to his neck as he started to take off the blonde’s clothing. Adrian said nothing, but he was breathing heavily from their exploits.

“Your nipples are hard. Damn, they’re so cute.” He dipped down to tease one of Adrian’s pink nipples through the translucent shirt, his tongue soaking the thin fabric. Then he was dipping a hand into his fancy shirt to play with the other nipple, drawing a long moan from Adrian above.

“ _Agh_ ,” he sighed, his dick getting even harder at the sensation. Everything was pulsing, tingling, alive. But even the music drowned out and all he could sense was Trevor’s touch, Trevor’s warmth. It felt so good and reality faded in and out.

He started to pull the see-through shirt off of Adrian’s shoulders, a bit roughly, kissing the exposed skin as he went down, laying wet admiration to the blonde’s toned body. The shirt fell down, exposing his chest and upper stomach, hanging at his elbows. Trevor settled between his open thighs to give him pleasure. Adrian arched his back upward as Trevor sucked on a pale nipple and flicked it with his tongue. He started palming Adrian's hard cock through is pants, turning him on.

“Fuck! Ah,” he cried out, his dick throbbing just as much as Trevor’s was. Desire was everywhere. And Trevor wasted no time. He pulled off his jersey and finished unbuttoning Adrian’s shirt. Then he moved to the leather pants, eagerly putting one of Adrian’s legs up on his shoulder and kissing the bulge he found, too hasty to even bother taking them off before he did so. A shock went through Adrian’s body at the sensation, a ripple of pleasure moving through him. 

“Trevor, wait-” he started to say as the other man began to unzip his pants, but he didn’t finish the thought. Trevor started kissing him through his underwear and the sensation was almost impossible to resist. 

“Fuck. _Oh my god!_ Trevor,” he moaned, but when Trevor took his cock out all the way and began to lick him, he startled, coming back to reality. The other man was starting to give him a blowjob, but he suddenly pushed him away.

“Wait,” he gasped, totally out of breath, pulling his underwear back up. “Stop. Stop!” He caught his breath and Trevor looked at him with shock and confusion.

“ _What?_ ” He tried not to shout but the noise level was still very high and it was hard to hear him. Adrian was zipping up his pants, and Trevor had no idea why. “What did I do? _Hey!”_

“Trevor,” he pulled him close so he didn’t have to shout, “I don’t want to do this here. It’s not my house, I’m not comfortable.” 

“Oh,” Trevor was very relieved that he wasn’t the problem, “Okay,” he sighed, kissing his cheek and jaw a little, “Let’s go back to your place then, please. I want you so bad, Adrian. I want you tonight.” He grabbed the blonde man’s face and kissed him. Adrian gently pushed him away.

“Let me ask you something. Do you like me?” He wanted to hear the answer out loud. Trevor met his gaze, blue eyes connecting with gold. He was drunk enough to be able to answer honestly.

“Yes,” he answered in his low, gravelly voice, "of course I fucking do." 

“Okay,” he huffed, smiling, “I like you too.” Trevor dove back into kissing him after hearing that, forgetting or ignoring that Adrian told him to stop. He was so horny he thought that he was going to burst, and Adrian did confuse him sometimes. The blonde broke the kiss and pushed him away, getting off of the washer.

“What?” Trevor looked at him, trying to make out his face in the relative darkness. 

“If you like me, then you’ll like me tomorrow. I don’t wanna-” he exhaled, stepping in to speak in his ear, “I don’t wanna do this here. You’re drunk. And I’m drunk. If you really like me, and you’re not just saying it, you’ll like me tomorrow.” He gave Trevor his shirt and a quick kiss on the lips. The other man was just standing there, mouth open in shock and disappointment. 

"Really?" 

"I don’t want you to come up to me tomorrow and tell me this was a mistake. I want you to be sober. I don’t want you to be able to say it was a drunken mistake. Maybe you don’t take this seriously, but I do. I’m giving my virginity to you- in a way. My virginity to a guy. I don’t want to do it in a frat house laundry room when we’re both drunk. At a party. You won’t even remember this tomorrow. I want to do it in a bed, when we’re both sober.”

“Oh my god,” Trevor sighed, rubbing his face, realizing that Adrian was really not going to have sex with him that night. His crotch ached like mad and he growled as a result. “God, Adrian, you’re such a fucking tease.”

“Shut up,” Adrian wobbled a bit, nearly falling down as he got his shirt, already ruined from Trevor’s roughness, “I’m not a tease. You’re the one who started kissing me tonight. And I don’t have to have to fuck you just because we went in here. It’s my choice.”

“Ah, but you’re giving me the _fucking worst_ blue balls _ever_ … fuck!” He groaned in dramatized pain, and Adrian hit his shoulder playfully.

“You’re such a baby. It’ll pass," Adrian sighed, trying to tie his shirt, “I’m gonna go home. Are you sleeping here?” 

“Yeah. Arh, Adrian, it hurts,” he moaned, trying to adjust his aching balls, the pressure making him uncomfortable. 

“You’ll be okay. Come on, let me get you some water. You’re really drunk.” He pulled Trevor by the hand out of the laundry room and when he looked up, an expression of pure shock came over his face. People turned their heads. A considerable number of partygoers and frat guys had apparently found their hiding place, knew what they were doing, and had watched the two of them come out of the dedicated ‘hookup’ room. Disbelief and awe were written all over their faces, and some indistinguishable person in the throng of college kids took a picture, the bright flash blinding Adrian's golden eyes.

_Fuck._

  
  
  


**A/N: Please review! :)**


	22. Adrian in Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dracula decides to punish Adrian for his recent exploits. Adrian decides that he has nothing left to lose, and he pushes back.

A/N: I want to point out something that happens to the children of famous people. [Now, in my story Dracula is supposed to be even more famous than Zuckerberg or Jeff Bezos. He would be the equivalent to Steve Jobs, I’d say. Er, maybe they're as famous as him now? I'm not sure. Anyway, he's super famous.] And the children of famous people usually have to deal with people selling photos of them (or having pictures taken and used) when they are at a party. Here’s an example of a tabloid story for Malia Obama:[ https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3785684/Party-Malia-Obama-pictured-playing-pong-table-plastic-cups-beer-cans-just-days-arriving-home-family-vacation.html ](https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-3785684/Party-Malia-Obama-pictured-playing-pong-table-plastic-cups-beer-cans-just-days-arriving-home-family-vacation.html) Happened to her all the time in college. She still is on those sites, and the pictures are literally just her smoking with her boyfriend. How is that journalism? Whatever.

People will sell info and pictures to tabloids. And in the modern age I believe some of the tabloids appear on Snapchat stories or Instagram tabloid accounts. But there’s always the classic “newspapers” like Dailymail and the National Enquirer. Anyway, this stuff happens all the time.

Please enjoy the chapter!

* * *

**Dedicated to cricketsong1985, my friend, thank you for helping me with this and giving me encouragement.**

* * *

  
That night Adrian slept like a rock. In the morning he was startled awake by a loud pounding on the door. The blonde sat up in bed, his head aching a little, a hangover already creeping up. The pounding sound on his front door increased and someone outside tried to jiggle the lock. _Fuck! What-?_ He almost fell from the bed, getting up and rushing to pull on a shirt and smooth his hair down a little. 

“ _Adrian!_ ” He heard as he approached the door. _Dad? Did he fly in this morning? The hell?_

As soon as he opened the door his father came storming in, with his mother trailing behind. Anger and mania rolled off Dracula in waves, and he electrified the room in an instant, sparking with dangerous energy. Adrian backed up, confused and affronted by the display. He didn’t entirely remember what had happened the night before, and because he had just woken up, he had no idea why his parents would be in his apartment on a workday. The loud noises and flurry of movement were making his head spin already. He went to the kitchen island, where his father was angrily pulling things out of a Tom Ford leather briefcase.

“Dad, what-” he started, but he was interrupted when a fresh copy of the National Enquirer was shoved in his face. ‘EXCLUSIVE! DRACULA’S SON’S HIDDEN GAY LIFE EXPOSED: 19 YEAR OLD ADRIAN PARTIES HARD AT WALLACHIA FRAT HOUSE!’ _Oh my God. Oh my God._ Adrian didn’t even get a chance to check out the pictures before his father slammed the magazine down on the counter and pulled up something on his tablet.

“ _What_ \- is this?!” Dracula yelled, setting the CTC pad down in front of him displaying a news story from the Daily Mail: ‘Dracula Tepes’ son Adrian shares a steamy kiss with an unknown man at frat party near Wallachia University.’ _Oh, fuck. Oh, God, this is bad._ Adrian grimaced, looking down at the pictures. The main shot was of him sitting on the counter, moaning as Trevor gave him a hickey. His mouth was open, face contorted in ecstasy, his long legs wrapped around Trevor’s hips. One hand was holding Trevor’s waist. The other was buried in his hair, gripping the dark strands. Trevor’s face wasn’t visible. Only his borrowed hockey jersey and his hair. Adrian’s heart beat faster and faster, his hands starting to twitch and shake when he realized how much this would anger his father. Embarrassment was trumped by anxiety.

“I’m sorry. I-” He started, but it wasn’t going to help anything. He knew that.

“ _Where were you?!_ ”

“I was at a - a private party,” he exhaled and sucked in a fast breath, “in a frat house.” 

“ _Goddammit, Adrian!_ ” Dracula shouted out in anger. “Are you serious? You think this is acceptable? You think _this kind of behavior_ is acceptable?!” Lisa came over quickly, sensing that his anger was getting a little out of control. She pulled down his raised hand that was tightly gripping the tabloid.

“What?” Adrian was breathing hard, backing up to the fridge and holding his arms around himself. “Going to a party?”

“Getting sexual photos of yourself posted online like this! Going to a trashy house party with frat guys, letting this one between your legs? I can't believe you. Do you have any idea how I felt? Waking up and seeing these _fucking pictures blasted all over the internet?!_ ” 

Lisa stepped in front of him, trying to ease the tension by getting between them. She put her hands on his broad chest.

“Vlad, calm down, take a breath,” she insisted, “just calm down.” Vlad let out a pained breath. 

“We were just kissing. I didn’t sleep with him.” Adrian’s heart was just beating faster and faster as he realized how much trouble he had gotten himself into.

“Who is this? This- Crawford?” Dracula demanded, reading the name on the back of the jersey. Adrian realized Trevor must have borrowed a teammate’s jersey after the game. It was odd that he wasn’t wearing his own, but Adrian didn’t want to bring any attention to that. 

“Does it matter? A guy from school. I didn’t know anyone was taking pictures of us. I - I didn’t want this to get out.”

“Oh, _really?_ That’s why you made out with some frat moron on a countertop in the _middle of a party?_ With people taking pictures of you?” He huffed, hair falling out of place. Adrian thought his father looked positively manic. Stress and annoyance were normal expressions for the fifty-two-year-old, but that day was different. His usually perfect slicked back hair was falling in front of his face, the messy appearance decidedly off-putting on a man who usually looked impeccable. Even his burgundy tie was askew, like he had pulled on the knot in stress during the flight.

“Do you really think I would want a picture like this of myself online, dad?” He shot back, angry that someone had posted it in the first place.

“I don’t know anymore, Adrian! I feel like I don’t know you. Not when you’re doing things like this. The son I know would _never do things like this!_ The Adrian I know wouldn’t- _God!_ Do you know how much of a nightmare this is going to create for me? Do you have any idea?!”

“Vlad, take a breath,” Lisa ordered, pushing him away to go pace and hyperventilate by himself, and then she turned to her son, “He’s very upset about this. Just let him cool down. Were you drunk, honey? Is that why you didn’t notice people taking pictures?” Adrian watched his father pace around the living room, running a hand anxiously through his dark hair. _This is not good._ He gulped in fear, anticipating a serious punishment for such an offense. He started a mental tally of the rules he had broken the night previous and the number was one he had never reached.

“...Yeah.” 

Dracula turned around. “Were you doing drugs?” He demanded to know. Adrian gritted his teeth. He knew his father was smart enough to tell when he was lying, and he didn’t bother.

“Just… a tiny bit... of pot. Only a little. Nothing serious.” Adrian felt ashamed and guilty all of a sudden, like an alarm bell going off in his mind. He cringed when his father broke out yelling once more.

“I made it _very clear_ to you that you were forbidden to do this, Adrian! We just went through this! Didn’t I just tell you? _And you promised me!_ You promised me you wouldn’t do this shit. Why are you breaking my rules?!” 

“Why are _you_ so mad?” Adrian asked, his heart pounding, “I was just kissing a guy from school. You’re acting _crazy_.” Vlad’s eyes blew wide and he raised a hand to tap his chest.

“I'm acting crazy? How do you think this all reflects _on me_? On our family? That we’re raising a son who would act like this? And be so drunk that he doesn't even know people are taking pictures of him. And, what’s this?” He pointed to the other photo, a shot of him coming out of the laundry room, and very disheveled in appearance. He was holding Trevor’s hand but the other man's face wasn’t visible because of the door. The flash was blinding his golden eyes, hair mussed from Trevor pulling on it. There was a visible collection of hickeys on his neck. He automatically clutched his hand to his neck in embarrassment.

"Do you know what this looks like?!" His father growled. Adrian felt a wave of intense anxiety and revulsion course through him, and his stomach clenched so bad he thought he might throw up. Lisa saw this and walked over to her son, rubbing his shoulder affectionately. Her brow furrowed.

“Vlad, stop yelling at him. He’s only a teenager. Teenagers make mistakes sometimes, and they get drunk, it’s not the end of the world. Go get some water or something. Calm down.” She wasn’t that angry. In fact, she wasn’t angry at all, just very concerned. Adrian buried his face in his hands, trying to calm down as his mother stroked his back sweetly. He was breathing very heavily. Vlad just stared at them, scowling.

“It was consensual, right?” Lisa asked, and Adrian nodded. A pause. _Oh, God!_ He truly felt like he might throw up. 

“Mom, I'm- I’m gonna be sick,” he admitted, breathing shallowly and nervously. Lisa took his hand. 

“Come to the bathroom. Vlad, you stay out here. Try to calm down.” Lisa led Adrian to the bathroom, and his head was swimming horribly. There was a pounding thumping in the front of his skull. He clutched the sink, hair falling over in front of his face. _Oh, God._ Lisa held back his long, messy hair as he threw up a little in the sink and washed his mouth out. Adrian hadn’t eaten anything for a very long time and it was mostly alcohol he threw up, but he felt slightly better afterward. Lisa sighed.

“Oh, honey. It’s okay… you’re gonna be okay. Here, sit there. Are you done?” He nodded and sat down on the toilet lid clumsily. Lisa crouched down to look at him, and she could tell that he was still a little drunk. But she didn’t say anything, instead, she got a cold washcloth and cooled down his face. He was sweating in nervousness. Lisa could tell from the look in his eyes that he was dreading imminent punishment.

“Adrian, it’ll be alright. I promise. It's just a stupid tabloid story. They posted them about me when I first married your father. Even accused me of being a lesbian because I went out to dinner with my friend Evie a few times. They're ridiculous. And, of course, everyone does things like this. Get drunk and go to parties. I did when I was younger. Your father's just - it makes him so angry because he thinks it reflects badly on us. Like we failed at raising you or something. And he hates people criticizing him. You know that.”

She brushed his hair with a comb and gave him some mouthwash in a cup to gargle with, always the helpful doctor. Adrian looked up at her appreciatively.

"Thanks."

After a while, they came out and Vlad was sitting at the dining table, head clutched in his hands, breathing normally but still scowling. The mania had faded but his tense body language did not give Adrian the impression that his father was done critiquing his behavior. 

“Vlad, have you calmed down now? No more yelling, please. There’s no need for that.”

“No need for it?” He looked at Lisa like she was crazy.

“Just say what you need to say calmly and don't yell at him. He’s been shaking, Vlad. Don’t make him so nervous. There’s no point to that.”

“But there must be repercussions for these actions. I'm not letting him off the hook after breaking so many of my rules. Adrian, you are in serious trouble. I’m going to have to do something about this- because this is unacceptable. What do you think my partners will say to me when they see this? Or say behind my back? What about other men in The Order? This is not the kind of attention we need to attract. This is the opposite of how you’re supposed to behave.”

_That’s not why you’re really mad at me._

A silence passed and Adrian decided to ask the question he needed to.

“Is this about me being bisexual? Is that what this really is? Is that why you’re so mad?” He sighed, expressing his true worry that his father wasn’t as supportive as he claimed. Vlad let out a slow sigh through his nose, relaxing his shoulders and resting his head in his hand. He rubbed his temple.

“...No,” he denied it, “I’m angry about your inappropriate display of very sexual behavior, in public. And the heavy drinking. You should not be drinking like that, you’re nineteen for Christ’s sake. And I forbade you to smoke marijuana and you did it anyway.”

“Let me ask you something,” Adrian posed, not satisfied with his father’s answer, “Would you be this upset if it was a girl that I was kissing in that photo? Would you even be mad at all?” Lisa pursed her lips and looked at her husband, thinking the same thing after he had said it. 

When Vlad said nothing, Adrian answered the question himself, “No, you wouldn’t. Do you know how I know that? Because when I took Sypha to the city a few weeks ago, you told us, you actually _told us_ to go to a club. A club that was 21 and over. And you let me drink in public. So it’s not really the drinking or the partying that’s making you mad. It’s that I was kissing a guy. _That’s what it fucking is and we both know it. You're just using the other things as an excuse to yell at me._ ”

Vlad scowled, glaring up at him. Adrian had a point and they both knew it.

“Don’t you dare talk back to me right now, Adrian. _Sit!_ ” He pointed at the chair across from him, “Sit and be quiet. You’ve created quite a mess. Don’t try and turn this around on me. You never see pictures of me splashed all over the tabloids.” Adrian sat next to him at the table, the morning light almost blinding him, making his hangover worse.

“Why don’t you just say it and stop avoiding the subject? You don’t think it’s okay that I’m bisexual. You want me to be straight. Why don’t you just say it out loud?”

Dracula sighed, blinking slowly, like the subject was weighing heavily on him. Lisa opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself, waiting to hear what her husband was going to say.

“I’m fine with you being bisexual, Adrian, it’s alright with me. Of course, it’s alright. If- _if_ you were being responsible about it. Which you clearly aren’t."

"You mean keeping everything in private so no one ever has to see it. Becuase oh my god, how disgusting it is, you should only be so dirty in private so no one can see it?"

"No!" Vlad huffed, "I never said that."

"Yes you did. You didn't say it in front of mom, but you said it. Keep it to yourself, don't other people, don't date a guy." He echoed his father's words from a year ago when he came out. Lisa gasped at that.

"What? Did you say that to him?" She scowled, blue eyes shocked.

"No! No, I didn't."

"You said don't be seen in public with a guy. If you're going to 'act like that' then do it in private. That's why he's so mad right now. That obviously means don't date a guy."

"You could date a guy, _if you were acting right_. If you were dating properly, if you let me know his name beforehand, or anything about him. And making out with a frat boy hockey player is very different from kissing your girlfriend at a nice club in the city. It does not create the same frenzy in the tabloids. It would not make the front page of the Enquirer. And, no, I’m not okay with you having random hookups with your peers. That is not acceptable behavior. It’s reckless. And it reflects very badly on our whole family. And it’s dangerous!”

“ _God, you’re overprotective_ ,” Adrian groaned in annoyed at him, “And old fashioned.” 

“No, I’m being smart. Do you realize, Adrian, that you’re a celebrity now? Being my son makes you one by default. Your life will be an interest of the press forever. And so, yes, it is risky and dangerous for you to hookup with people you don’t know. They could try to take advantage of you, they could try to make it into a media story somehow. _Don’t you remember what happened two years ago?_ Did I dream that entire incident?!” Adrian cringed, trying not to think about that. He avoided the subject and tried to pretend like it never happened.

“That was different. And that never leaked to the press. I’m fine, Dad. College students go to parties all the time. I never get invited. I got invited once, and so I went. This was the only party I bet I’ll ever go to in college. I'm sure I won't be invited anywhere after this nightmare. I wanted to have a college experience like other teenagers do. Just once.” He got up, drinking some water, and taking a Tylenol to try and quell his pounding headache. 

“Don’t expect me to give you any sympathy for this,” Vlad snapped, voice sharp, “Just going to a party is one thing, but getting drunk and making out with - this - I want to know who it is in the photo. Are you dating this young man?” Vlad interrogated. 

“No, we’re not dating.”

“Then what the hell were you doing with him?!” He growled, pushing the paper away in anger. Adrian looked at his mother.

“You’re really not going to stop him? He’s yelling again.” He wondered why she was being relatively complacent about the whole thing. 

“Honestly, Adrian, I’m concerned about this as well. But I’m concerned because it appears to be that you were cheating on your girlfriend.” Her tone was gentle, but Adrian could tell she would be pissed if he was cheating. But he didn’t know how to explain that he wasn’t, because Sypha’s idea of dating was so atypical. 

“No, no, I didn’t cheat on her! We broke up. I didn’t cheat on Sypha.” He let out a heavy breath, and Lisa pursed her lips a bit. She didn’t entirely believe it. Her son was not a talented liar and she could feel something off about the whole thing. She raised a perfect blonde eyebrow.

“So, if you called or texted her right now, she wouldn’t be angry at you? Because you didn’t cheat on her?”

“Yes! I promise. I’ll talk to her later. She’s not - we’re just not together anymore. I broke up with her.” He had already dug himself into the lie and he just decided to go with it. Adrian was worried that his parents would think Sypha’s unusual dating rules were made up.

“Because you’re gay?” Vlad sighed, upset. Adrian scowled at him.

“ _No_ , I’m still bi,” he groaned at that, “ _Jesus Christ._ That’s not how being bisexual works, dad. It’s not like I’m switching from straight and gay. I’m simultaneously attracted to both genders," he tried to explain, and received only a scowl in reply, "and now you're glaring at me." _Fuck you._ Vlad looked away.

"Vlad don't glare at him. Did you use protection, honey?” Lisa asked softly, much to Adrian’s mortification. 

“ _No!_ We didn’t do anything!” He protested, golden eyes blowing wide. He started breathing heavily again, anxious and embarrassed at the same time.

“Really? It’s fine if you did. I understand that college kids do this sort of thing at parties. I was young once, too, you know. And when I was going to college it was not the norm to wear condoms during oral sex, and this girl from my class in school, I just found out recently that she got diagnosed with mouth cancer, and I bet that it was from all the-” Adrian cringed, turning away.

“ _Argh!_ Mom, please stop- _please_. _I didn’t do anything, just, stop it_ -” he pleaded. 

“I just want to make sure you’re not exposing yourself to diseases. This guy, did you ask if he’s been tested? You know you should always ask to see their papers first so you know that they don’t have any sort of-”

“Mom - _we didn’t have sex!_ ” He yelled in exasperation. Lisa pursed her lips and turned her head.

“Don't scream at me. Both of you need to learn to speak without yelling. God. I'm just saying, if you’re having sex a guy, that’s just something to think about, you know. Be precautious.”

Vlad got up from his seat, clearly disturbed by the conversation in general. He dropped the tabloid in front of him again.

“Who is this boy to you? Stop avoiding the question.” 

“He’s a classmate. I don’t really know him that well.” Adrian bit his lip nervously, trying to stop himself from saying who Trevor really was, because if his father found out that he was a Belmont, the consequences would be disastrous. He wouldn’t even know what his father would do to him if he knew about that. Even Lisa’s interference may not be enough to quell his anger in that scenario, especially given that Adrian knew he was a Belmont and kissed him anyway.

“He’s wearing a hockey jersey. Is he a hockey player?”

“Yes.”

“That’s- that’s just wonderful,” he scoffed, like being a hockey player meant he was the scum of the earth, “My son, necking with some random hockey player at a frat party.”

“ _Necking?_ How _old_ are you?” Adrian asked sardonically in anger, nose scrunching up. Vlad whipped around.

“Are you giving me an attitude? Do you really want to be doing that right now? Do you really think that’s wise?” Adrian exhaled, lowering his head in fear. Vlad grabbed his jaw, tilting his face up so he could see him clearly.

“Do you even know him?” He wouldn't let it go for some reason.

“I do know him a little. We have a class together. We sit next to each other sometimes.”

“Oh, you do? Then, what’s his name? You should know.” 

Adrian knew revealing his identity would cause a tremendous amount of problems, so he was silent on the matter. He only hoped his father wouldn’t call his private investigator. If it came to that, Adrian knew he was dead. Vlad would probably lock him in his room and throw away the key. Or banish him to Siberia. 

“This is none of your business. I don’t have to tell you all the details of my private life-” Vlad stopped him mid-sentence, nearly snarling at him, strands of black hair falling in front of his eyes. 

“I don’t _ask_ when I think you can _manage it_. I thought you could, so I let you have your distance. I let you have this apartment, my cars. My money. I let you move away from home. Go to college out of the city. And this is what I get in return? These obscene pictures of you on the front page of every tabloid! Going to a frat party, drinking, smoking pot, making out with a hockey player, and not _even noticing_ people taking pictures of you? This isn’t you.” He walked away, almost stomping. 

“This is me! Because it’s something that I did. You can’t just say something isn’t 'me' because it doesn’t fit into your picture of me. Your perception of me is not my main concern in life, Dad.” 

“ _Then what is?_ ” Dracula challenged, testing him. Adrian looked up, clenching his jaw. “You think you’re such an adult? Then tell me. You have your life sorted out? What are your main concerns?”

Adrian thought about it, knowing that whatever he would say would be torn apart anyway “...being happy and..." his voice got quiet, "helping the people in my life. Making them happy.”

Vlad scoffed at him.

“This isn’t making me feel happy! Neither of us,” he gestured to his wife, “Who is this helping? This is what you want to represent you? That’s what you’re saying? Your first public news story, and it’s _this!_ I’m so disappointed in you. Adrian, you have so many things going for you. You’re so talented and smart. But instead of some great accomplishment, or stunning violin performance, instead of important lab research, or your artwork, this is how you want yourself to be presented to the public? _As a rake?!_ ” He practically spat the word at him. 

“Vlad, stop it,” Lisa interjected to no avail. "Don't."

“A rake?” Adrian scowled in confusion, “What’s that?” 

“A good-for-nothing wastrel. A man who wastes his life away with parties and drinking and sex, and doesn’t do anything productive.”

“Vlad, hey, don’t talk to him like that! Stop it.” Lisa silenced his rant, aggravated with her husband, “It’s not that bad. It was one night.”

“No, I think it’s something more than that. Did you let them take the pictures and put this online? As a message to me? Is this some point you’re trying to prove to me? That I can’t tell you what to do?” He was grasping, and Adrian knew his father knew there was more to the story that he wasn’t telling, but he wasn't going to say.

“No! I didn’t know they were taking pictures. But I don’t understand why this bothers you so much. I’m an adult, I can do what I want.” He crossed his arms, trying to appear strong even though he had to bite his lip to stop it from trembling.

“An adult? You’re not really an adult yet. Do you pay for this expensive apartment? Do you buy your own things? Have you ever held a job or a significant responsibility? The only commitments you had were your job at CTC and your major, and you quit them! Have you ever lived in the world without your parents coming to rescue you? No.” He pointed to the photo again. 

“Is this what being an adult is, Adrian? Putting yourself into situations like this? Drinking so much and smoking marijuana? You could have…” his voice broke, and he collapsed down into the dining room chair again, “you could have been raped, Adrian. At a party like that.”

“Raped?” Adrian’s mind stopped, freezing at the word.

“What, you think I haven't worried about that? Men get raped. Especially young men that look like you do. You just don’t hear about it because they never report it. It happens, far more often than you would guess.” Lisa sighed, looking over at her scowling son.

“And of course we would never want that to happen. Your father is angry at you mainly because he’s worried about you, honey. I’m a little worried too. I’m fine with you exploring your sexuality, but this feels… a bit like cause for concern. Like it’s out of nowhere, almost. I mean, eighteen years, no girlfriends, no boyfriends. No talk of crushes, really. I thought maybe you were asexual or something. When you came out, it was a little shocking to us.”

“I’m not asexual. I just didn’t like anyone at that school. I hated it there.”

“Okay, okay. I’m just saying, we’ve never seen this kind of behavior from you. It feels like it might be something that’s cause for concern. We can’t just let it go. It’s not like you. I mean- it’s fine to experiment, but this is just not something you would normally do.”

“Well, it was bound to happen sometime, don’t you think?” He asked sarcastically.

“Don’t be disrespectful to your mother.”

“So, do you like this young man?” Lisa asked. 

“You mean, romantically?” She nodded and he looked around uncomfortably, not able to answer the question normally because of his father’s critical presence. He shrugged.

“I -I think so, yeah.” 

“Well, you’re sure as hell not going to be with him after this," Vlad growled, still upset. 

“Darling, stop that. You don’t even know him. I think we should all calm down. It’s going to be alright. You’re not hurt, you’re not in trouble.”

“Not in trouble! I’m pretty damn sure he’s in trouble!” Vlad shot back angrily.

“Honey, I meant with the law," she sighed again, "Not your laws, real laws.”

“Well, he could have been! What if the police had raided that frat house, Adrian? What if they took you to jail? Do you realize that I would have had to bail you out? And it would have been a much bigger news story than the Daily Sun or the Enquirer. That could have been national television. Do you even realize how serious this kind of behavior is?”

“Dad, it was one night. One single night after years of being _fucking perfect_. I never have fun. I’m doing well in all my classes, I have straight As. I won the Manhattan Music Competition. I volunteer.”

“That’s not the point! I care more about this. About the choices you make, the standard you set for yourself-”

“You mean my obedience to the dictatorship you call parenting.” Adrian’s words were sharp, exposing feelings he had never materialized to his father before. It was not well received. Dracula’s eyes darkened, his jaw clenched. 

“I wonder if I should take something away. As a punishment for this... I think I will.”

“Vlad. Really? I don’t know if that’s necessary.” Lisa scowled at him, ready to stop him if he went too far.

“It’s irresponsible behavior. Maybe I’ll take the Ferarri away, hmm? Maybe I’ll return it to the dealership.” Adrian sighed, leaning against the counter and dropping his head.

“Fine. You can take it. Just please stop talking about this, and leave me in peace.”

“So, that’s not important, then, hm? What is?” He looked around. Lisa sighed at him.

“Vlad, come on. Is this really necessary? He was only partying. Not stealing or doing heroin or something.” Vlad kept walking around, until he went out onto the patio. The noise of the sliding glass door caused Adrian to look up, and he tried not to shudder when Vlad found the pack of Malboros on the patio table, partially empty. And some butts in the ashtray. Vlad brought them into the apartment and tossed them on the counter in anger.

“You’ve been smoking?” Lisa almost yelled, very angry to see cigarettes missing. Her eyes widened in total shock. The expression on her face was one of bewilderment, like she didn’t even recognize him.

“ _Argh._ Just,” he went to close the sliding door, “every once in a while. Only occasionally.” He admitted, having no other choice. 

“Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes. Are you kidding me?” Lisa’s mouth fell open in shock, and she picked up the ashtray like she couldn't believe it was real, “Tell me this is a joke. Tell me you wouldn’t subject your beautiful body to this, _this poison!_ This is like swallowing _tar!_ What’s wrong with you? You know how many surgeries I’ve done, how smoking ruins people’s lives. I’ve talked about it for hours. Why would you-? How could you?” She started to trail off in complete bewilderment, letting the ashtray fall to the countertop with a loud clunk. Her eyebrows were knit together, eyes darting around in confusion. Her son only sighed. _I’m done for. God dammit._

“ _Now_ will you agree that something needs to be done?” Vlad turned to Lisa, asking for her approval. She exhaled through her teeth in frustration.

“I can’t believe this... argh, fine, you can take away something. One thing.”

“What shall it be?” Vlad thought for a while, like he was going to enjoy it. Adrian suspected he would. It would be an easy way to get back at him after dragging his name into the tabloids. After all, the headline was Dracula’s son’s hidden gay life. His father's name was what drew people in.

“Oh, I know... the Paris trip,” he smiled, a little sadistically when he saw Adrian’s horrified expression, “You’re not going anymore.” He glared across at his son for a moment before storming back to the island and grabbing his bag like he was going to leave.

“ _What?!_ No, Dad, please,” Adrian begged, “Please let me go. I’ve been looking forward to that trip all year. I have a shoot with Armani. I was supposed to present my art! I’ve already been working on it- I started the painting and-” His father cut him off breezily. 

“No. You’ve lost it. I give you a great many privileges, Adrian, and if you’re going to throw them back in my face like this, be prepared to face the consequences. You can throw your art off the balcony for all I care. Along with the cigarettes.” Dracula’s tone was ice cold and Adrian broke down into tears. He collapsed on the surface of the counter, clutching his face in his hands, realizing that months of work were going to go down the drain. Lisa softened at the sight of his tears and held out a hand to stroke his blonde head. She looked to Vlad, pleading with him as he packed things back in his bag.

“Vlad, I think maybe we’re being too harsh. Maybe not something that important to him. He’s just a teenager. Teenagers make mistakes.”

“ _Lisa_ -” Vlad was annoyed she was going back on her decision now that she was seeing his tears.

“Come on, you’re making him cry. He’s been working on that for months already. And he was looking forward to the modeling shoot.”

"I don't like him modeling at all."

Adrian picked his head up, wiping the streaks of tears that were running down his face.

“Have mercy on him. It was just one night. He’s usually such a good kid, come on. You know he is. Smoking aside.” Vlad sighed deeply. Even he was softening at the miserable expression on his son’s pretty face. He looked away, running a hand through his dark hair.

“ _Arh._ I might, possibly, entertain the thought of letting you go to Paris…” Adrian blinked to look at him through bleary, watery eyes. “If- _If-_ you clean up your act. No more smoking, no more partying, no more hookups. No frat boys, no marijuana. And I want to see you reestablish your honor. Your dignity. Do something important in the world. Contribute. I don’t care what is really, but do something. Get a paper published, win a coding contest. Do something to improve your name and better represent what it stands for.”

Adrian stopped crying. He wiped the remnants of his tears away angrily. Vlad tipped his chin up.

“Look me in the eye, Adrian.” He did.

“I made you. I gave you this name, _Tepes_. This name which means success and power. We are descended from royalty. Your mother is at the top of her field, and I am at the top of mine. _We_ represent this name with grace and dignity... Will you?” 

Adrian could only look up at his father, bewildered. He had no idea how to answer such a question. 

“Well, you can think about that,” Lisa sighed, trying to lighten the tension, “But for tonight, you have to come home. Okay?” Adrian felt like he was being pulled in a million directions.

“What?” He gasped a little, “I have midterms.” 

“How many do you have left?” Vlad questioned. Adrian didn’t stop scowling. He felt like a small child being sent to his room. It was humiliating.

“Two. One exam this afternoon and two papers.” 

“You can submit the papers online. Take the test this afternoon and fly home afterward. You should pack now.”

“But-” 

“ _No debate!_ ” His eyes flashed with anger once more, “Don’t even try it. Your spring break is canceled. Next time you want a vacation don’t get your face plastered all over the news.” Adrian turned to his mother, desperate. He had wanted to spend time with his friends, maybe go to California with Sypha. Everything felt like it was falling apart. Lisa pursued him with a much softer gaze than her husband did.

“Honey, we have to take you home after this. We can’t just leave you here. Your father is right, no debating. Pack a bag. I’m going to book a flight for you to come home tonight. Just take your exam this afternoon, and go straight to the airport.”

Adrian turned to see his father looking at his phone, scowling at the messages that popped up.

“Hey! What are you doing on my phone?” He gasped, not wanting his father to snoop. Vlad gave him a sad, resigned look and ran his hand through his hair again, clearly upset. Then he went back into the phone and kept on. When Adrian stormed towards him and tried to grab the phone out of his hand Vlad stepped back, not letting him take it.

“Wait. I’m going to delete your apps for now. Instagram, Facebook, Twitter… Youtube.”

“Why?! It's my phone, why would you get rid of my apps?” Adrian was scared to know.

“Why do you think? The word is out. Those photos are out. People are saying horrible things about you. I don’t want you to look at it, not now. You have an exam today and you need to focus on that. Just, please promise me you won’t re-download them or look at them today, okay? I know you need your other apps so you can get home. Just, don’t go online. And come home tonight. I’m going to make sure your driver knows about your flight tonight. And I want him to fly with you on the plane. You have to have bodyguards with you after this. Everyday if you go out. You have popularity now. Exactly what I didn’t want,” he sighed in aggravation, “just promise me you’ll only go to take your exam, come back here, and then get on the flight tonight, okay?” He seemed very adamant about it. Adrian’s anger was only rising, but he knew yelling more would only make it worse, and if he said anything else Vlad might make him give up the apartment permanently and just live at home. The more he tried to step away the more Dracula dragged him back in. And it was a vicious cycle because Adrian knew in a week or two his father would forget about him all over again and disappear for a month. 

“I promise,” he spoke, and he had to force the words out of his mouth. Vlad didn’t comment on Adrian’s fierce glare and snarled lip. He didn’t seem bothered at all, probably because that’s what he had intended.

“Good. I’ll see you tonight at the house. _Don’t_ miss your flight.” He picked up his keys from the table, grabbed his jacket, and started out the door without another word. “Come on, Lisa.” He ordered shortly. Lisa met eyes with her son, who looked equal parts pissed off and miserable. She laid a kiss to his forehead and smoothed down his hair.

“It’ll be alright, Adrian. Things will get better. Good luck on your exam. See you at home.” 

When the door clicked shut Adrian started pacing, emotions flooding within him like a champagne bottle about to pop. He locked the door and hopped in the shower, mulling over the events of that morning. Too distracted to even realize he was missing class. He was frustrated, embarrassed, upset, and desperate. The feeling of desperation was new and Adrian knew that it was hard to control, but that morning he decided he didn’t care. _I might as well do it now. I already got myself into this mess… there’s nothing to lose._

* * *

Adrian waited outside the lecture hall for class to be released. It was almost twelve. And Adrian knew if he was going to do what he was planning to do, there wasn’t much time to spare. When he spotted Trevor coming out of class he whistled softly to get his attention.

“Trevor.” The dark-haired man turned, relieved to see Adrian approach.

“Hey! There you are,” he greeted, voice a little tired. Adrian led him to the alley between the brick buildings where they always seemed to talk. “Sypha and I did the presentation without you. We told the professor you were sick and you’d send a doctor’s note later. So don’t let him see you. Where were you?” Trevor seemed concerned that Adrian had missed class, something he had admitted he’d never done in his whole life, but at that moment Adrian didn’t care at all. After a brief check to make sure no one could see them and then he pushed Trevor up against the brick wall. 

“Wha-?” He started before he was interrupted with a passionate kiss. Then another and another. Eventually, Trevor gave in to it, letting the blonde man kiss him with a fierceness he had never felt before. There was clear desperation in his movements, by the way he grabbed him tight and didn’t let go. Trevor opened his mouth and let Adrian french kiss him, tongue dancing with his. Thin fingers carded through his dark hair and he felt Adrian use the grip to pull his head back. He gasped when the blonde man laid kisses down his neck, turning him on. It was practically voyeuristic given that anyone could potentially walk by. Then he stopped, rather suddenly, and his hands came down to Trevor's chest. There was a determined boldness in his golden eyes, something unfamiliar and mesmerizing. 

“ _Fuck me_ ,” he exhaled, breathing hard, his lips red from their shared kisses, “Right now. Come to my apartment. _I want you._ ” There wasn’t a shred of doubt anymore, and Trevor could see that now that he was sober. He considered Adrian for a moment, blinking, taking the desperation in his eyes and wondering what it was about. He wondered why Adrian would push him up against a school building and ask what he had, so ernestly.

“People are saying things about us, you know,” he blurted out, and he didn’t know why. Maybe because they were standing in a very intimate position in a relatively public space the day after a major scandal broke out. Adrian’s expression didn’t change. He was resolute. 

“I know. Who cares? They already know... Last night you said you want me. I want you too. So come with me, right now. I want to fuck you.” Trevor gupled at that, words he had longed to hear from the beauty. 

“Okay,” he huffed. It wasn't a hard decision, not when Adrian's lithe body was pressed up against his own. The excitement between them was palpable, and he wanted to take advantage of the moment. Besides, Adrian was right, his secret was already out, so what did it matter? They walked to Adrian’s apartment, and Trevor found it a bit odd that he chose the alleyways and backstreets to get there, but he didn’t comment. Adrian led him in through a backdoor with his keycard, and Trevor couldn’t help but feel again like he was a servant boy having an affair with a prince. They stayed out of eyesight, even taking the stairs to get up to his unit instead of the elevator. 

“You’re being awfully secretive,” Trevor teased. Adrian unlocked the door.

“With good reason. We don’t have much time, come in.” When Trevor was inside Adrian quickly locked the door, not only with the deadbolt but with the chain lock, too. Trevor turned to look but then Adrian was pushing him up against the wall, almost devouring him. He kissed with an intensity Trevor had never seen, never felt. Almost like it was the last day on Earth and Trevor was the only man left. After a long bout of heated kisses Trevor pushed him away a little, needing some time to catch his breath. Their chests were rising and falling in synchrony, and Trevor found himself brushing back Adrian’s beautiful hair. The hickeys on Adrian's neck reminded of the night previous, when they had kissed so long he had gotten sore. His bottom lip still felt bruised, but he didn’t really care. Adrian’s rashness was turning him on more and more. And he couldn't deny that any longer, not even to Adrian himself.

“That was hot,” he exhaled, feeling warm all over his body, "You're really hot. Fuck." Adrian smiled lasciviously. 

“Do you want a drink first?” The blonde asked, suddenly pulling away and walking into the kitchen. Trevor watched him smooth down his hair. He was acting strangely, nearly the opposite of his reserved self, but he didn’t feel the need to talk about that. He was entitled to act how he wanted. But Trevor hoped that he was doing okay. 

“What happened to not drinking while having sex? I thought that was the problem last night.”

“Eh, whatever. I don't care. Not anymore," his voice changed while he poured the vodka, like he was having some sort of revalation, "I don't know why I _always care so much. About everything. It's stupid. I'm sick of caring so much all the time._ And one drink doesn’t get you drunk anyway. It just takes the edge off.” 

“Okay," Trevor exhaled, looking at Adrian differently, because something was definitely wrong, "Did something happen? You seem-” he locked eyes with the other man for a moment, “I dunno. Off.”

Adrian didn't deny it.

“I’ll tell you another time, Trevor. I promise I'll explain myself, just not now. I have an exam soon and then I’m flying to the city, so I want to make this count. I want to enjoy my last hours of freedom before I’m grounded for a week. Let’s have a drink.”

“Okay,” he sighed, shaking it off. He would take alcohol and good sex over conversation any day, and he didn’t comment on being grounded because Trevor definitely thought he was joking. “What are we drinking?” Adrian opened the fridge, and leaned into it, hand gripping the frame. Trevor noticed how different his body movements were that day, how differently he held himself. Like he was buzzing with pent up energy or something. Trevor supposed he was. Their encounter the night before had left him excited. But Adrian’s energy was more intense, like he had drunk way too much caffeine that morning or something. But he quickly became distracted by the tight jeans Adrian had on and shamelessly checked out his body. _Argh._ He liked how the broadness of his chest sloped down to narrow hips and a taut stomach, just barely showing under his white button-down shirt. And he loved the messiness of his blonde hair even more. Adrian wasn’t taking anything out of the fridge yet, just looking, so Trevor let himself continue to think about the parts of Adrian’s body he appreciated. Namely his long legs, his toned arms, his pouty lips, his straight nose, his furrowed brow. Finally, Adrian turned his head, catching Trevor staring at him unabashedly. A smirk pulled up the corner of his lip, and Trevor knew he was tantalizing him, arching his body just perfectly.

“Like what you see?” Adrian teased, and Trevor wondered if he had already had something to drink that morning, or if he was just acting wild because that’s how he was feeling. It was hard to determine the difference. But he smirked right back, he couldn't help it. Adrian was oozing sexuality, and the slightly crazy energy he was giving off just spurred him on more.

“Yes,” Trevor chuckled, a deep sound, finding it odd to say that out loud to a man. Adrian took out a lime and some soda he had in the fridge. He made a couple mixed drinks. They drank for a while and somehow managed to avoid the subject that was bothering them, perhaps in a desire to block out the world and forget anyone cared at all. Time seemed like it was rushing forward, and Trevor watched Adrian pour a small vodka shot for himself and take it back, lips puckering. He shook his head at the taste.

“Wooh! Ah,” he startled, licking his lips after. Trevor finished off his own drink and grabbed Adrian for another kiss. His lips felt smooth and soft, and at the wet touch of Adrian’s tongue to his own, a jolt of desire surged through him. Somehow wet kisses and moans seemed much more sexual with Adrian, and he didn’t know why. Maybe because he was a man, and maybe because he was just so damn handsome. They made their way to the bedroom, taking off their shoes and socks on the way, almost tripping in the process. When they were inside, Trevor kissed him for a long while, loving the taste of liquor on his tongue. It reminded him of the night before. Adrian giggled when Trevor nibbled on his earlobe, squirming in his arms. Then he pulled off the blonde’s shirt and hooked a finger around his jeans, pulling him in so their pelvis’ were pressed up against one another. _I can’t believe this is actually happening. Fuck._

Adrian’s slick kisses grew softer and more heady when combined with the feeling of his crotch flush against him. He began to grind against him every so slowly. Gentle nips and soft pecks continued one for a while until a pleasurable warm spread through Trevor’s body. Just the kind of feeling he had been missing. And the knowledge that the body against him was the guy of his dreams, and also the last person at school he should be sleeping with, made him shiver with desire. _I shouldn’t be doing this,_ Trevor said to himself as he rubbed himself against Adrian’s growing erection lewdly, listening to his soft moan at the contact.

“ _Aghh_.” He gave Adrian a final kiss before he let him go, his thumb caressing one pale cheek. Gold eyes clashed with his own and Trevor could see desire there, a desire that made him weak and yet, empowered. Adrian wanted him but he didn’t know what to do with him. It was obvious. 

“This is your first time with a guy, right?”

“Yeah, I told you,” he whispered, flushed cheeks getting even pinker. Trevor touched his hair, running his fingers through the blonde strands. He had been with men before, but never romantically. All he ever had were quick fucks in a dorm room or a club’s bathroom. Rushed blowjobs and romanceless hookups on Grindr. Doing it like they were, in the light of day, with mutual feelings blossoming between them, was completely foreign. And Trevor had never had sex with a virgin. It made him a bit nervous to be the one to educate Adrian on such a matter. He didn’t even know that much about gay sex himself, just the basics, really. And he never talked about it. Ever.

“Do you want to actually have sex? And not just- You wanna do,” he faltered, blushing too much to say it out loud. Being sober was not how he usually had sex. And one mixed drink was not going to take the edge off for him, considering his tolerance level. Very rarely was Trevor sober during a sexual encounter and he was finding it much more difficult, “anal?”

Adrian chuckled in nervousness, averting his eyes, but he shook his head yes. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Trevor chuckled as well, they were both chuckling, “Why don’t you go wash up? And I didn’t bring anything with me. I don't have a condom or anything. Do you have lube?”

“Yeah, it’s in the bathroom, I’ll get it. Can you put on some music? Please?” Adrian was still buzzing with excitement. He could hear his heart thumping in his chest, but no longer in a bad way. Trevor looked so handsome in the morning light, he thought, and the idea of what they were about to do was positively thrilling. Adrian had been waiting for years to have sex with a guy, and he never thought he would rush into it the way he was that day, but it felt right somehow. Necessary. He never acted so rashly, but he knew he was already over his head in trouble, and with punishment looming, it felt like a last hurrah. A final meal on death row. 

Adrian had no idea what was in store for him that evening, but he anticipated a lot of unhappiness and probably an order to stay in the house for a week at least. If he was going to be punished anyway, he figured it didn’t matter. There was no reason for propriety anymore. No reason to worry so much about everything he did. Not when his face was plastered all over the tabloids with captions that made him cringe. 

“Sure. What do you want?” 

“There’s a playlist on my phone. I think it’s called ‘vibes’,” he instructed, slipping into the bathroom to get ready. Trevor felt another pang of excitement go through him. _I’m really going to fuck him. Holy shit. Breathe._ His lips twitched in nervousness or exhilaration, he wasn’t sure. Adrian's sleek phone was on the dresser.

“What’s your code?” He called out to Adrian who was preparing himself in the bathroom. 

“19081,” he yelled back. Trevor went into Adrian’s Spotify and looked through the playlists. There were a lot. Finally he found the one Adrian wanted and put it on. Connecting the phone to his speaker wasn’t that easy, but he figured it out. Without a thought he pulled the show pillows off the bed, trying to make room. Adrian stepped out of the bathroom, clad only in a pair of black boxer briefs. He had brushed his long hair, and it fell over his bare shoulders in pretty waves. _Wow._ There was a moment of indecision, only a moment, where Adrian looked up at Trevor shyly, but he was picking Adrian up in his strong arms and dropping him onto the bed. Kisses came easy enough, but Adrian was so nervous he forgot he was still holding the condoms and lube. He dropped them on the bed.  
  


_Have you got color in your cheeks?_

_Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the type_

_That sticks around like summat in your teeth?_

_Are there some aces up your sleeve?_

_Have you no idea that you're in deep?_

_I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week_

Trevor moved on top of him and he wrapped his arms around strong,muscular shoulders. It was warm underneath his powerful body and Adrian definitely liked the feeling. Ice blue eyes stared down at him for a moment before he leaned in, and they kissed deeply, teeth scraping a bit as they adjusted. Trevor’s torso felt heavy on top of him, but Adrian found it comforting in a way. He liked the breadth of Trevor's muscled chest above him, and muscular arms around him. Grounding him. Protecting him.

_How many secrets can you keep?_

_'Cause there's this tune I found_

_That makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat_

_Until I fall asleep, spillin' drinks on my settee_

As Adrian laid down on the bed, his blonde hair fell around him like a halo, fanning out, leaving the white skin of his neck and shoulders exposed. Trevor saw the opportunity and eagerly leaned down to suck on his neck. With a sigh, Adrian let his eyes close, trying to get used to the feeling of Trevor’s bare skin against his. It felt different than Sypha's. Warm and dry, pulled taut over toned muscles. He ran his hands down Trevor’s back, breathing hard the harsh kisses went farther down. Trevor looked up for a moment before he took a pick nipple in his mouth, drawing a moan from Adrian immediately.

"Oh. Ah, fuck. That's- that feels good."

_(Do I wanna know) If this feelin' flows both ways?_

_(Sad to see you go) Was sorta hopin' that you'd stay_

_(Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made_

_For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day_

Soon Trevor was working his way down Adrian’s stomach to his underwear. He pushed nervousness away, trying to focus on the desire he was feeling. Truthfully, Yrevor hadn’t been nervous in bed for years. He wasn't worried about the act itself. It was just that he had never done anything with a male friend. He had always considered them off liits. And he knew just as well as Adrian did how wrong some people thought it was, how much they were judging them already. But he decided to let it go because there was no point in hiding it anymore, he had taken that step already. Word was out. _Why shouldn’t we enjoy ourselves?_ He palmed Adrian’s erection through his black underwear, appreciating the bulge there. A moan erupted from Adrian’s mouth almost immediately, making him smirk.

_Crawlin' back to you_

_Ever thought of callin' when_

_You've had a few?_

_'Cause I always do_

_Maybe I'm too_

_Busy bein' yours_

_To fall for somebody new_

“Trevor, mrgh, that feels good,” Adrian panted, chest rising and falling quickly. The air suddenly felt so cold around him, and Trevor got off the bed to pull him by his hips to the edge. A rush of adrenaline and shock went through Adrian’s body when Trevor hooked a finger around his underwear and pulled it off. Being bare in front of him was unfamiliar territory, and a gasp escaped his mouth when Trevor wrapped a hand around his length.

_Now, I've thought it through_

_Crawlin' back to you_

_So have you got the guts?_

_Been wonderin' if your heart's still open_

_And if so, I wanna know what time it shuts_

_Simmer down an' pucker up, I'm sorry to interrupt_

_It's just I'm constantly on the cusp of tryin' to kiss you_

_I don't know if you feel the same as I do_

_But we could be together if you wanted to_

Their eyes met and Trevor let go of him suddenly, almost like the contact had been too much. _Fuck._ Adrian blinked rapidly, mouth opening. He hadn’t meant to gasp, but it was just that the contact was so new, so foreign, at least from Trevor.

"Go ahead." He exhaled quickly, reaching for the lube and quickly squeezing some out into his palm. Nervousness crept up again and he tried to ignore it. Before, doing something like this with a friend would be so wrong, so off-limits. Completely taboo. But Adrian was different. Adrian wanted to be with him, and Trevor found that out very quickly when the sound of his friend’s moans filled the room. 

(Do I wanna know) _If this feelin' flows both ways?_

_(Sad to see you go) Was sorta hopin' that you'd stay_

_(Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made_

_For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day_

Besides the Arctic Monkeys song coming from the speakers, it was quiet. Trevor wanted to say something. He usually talked during sex, but for some reason, he was too embarrassed to do so with Adrian. Too sober. He wanted to compliment him, the way his cock felt in his hand, his length, the way his blond hair fanned out around his head like a golden halo, but he said nothing. 

“Agh,” he moaned, “Trevor.” His back arched, and Trevor could tell he was so sensitive, so turned on. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he didn’t, and blinked down, looking at Adrian’s cock and beautiful thighs. Snow white skin. There was such a pureness there. He was to embarrassed to use words, but his mouth found other ways to appreciate him.

_Crawlin' back to you (crawlin' back to you)_

_Ever thought of callin' when_

_You've had a few? (had a few)_

_'Cause I always do ('cause I always do)_

_Maybe I'm too (maybe I'm too busy)_

_Busy bein' yours (bein' yours)_

_To fall for somebody new_

_Now, I've thought it through_

_Crawlin' back to you_

He worked his way in from Adrian’s knee, laying wet kisses to his pale thighs. Adrian was up on his elbows, watching, completely flushed. It was easy to taste his way up from his base to the tip and tease the sensitive skin there. Trevor loved how Adrian’s hips wriggled in pleasure when he did that, so he repeated the action.

“Fuck,” he mewled, head rolling around in pleasure. His leg came up and Trevor easily let him put it over his shoulder while he got to work, taking Adrian’s member in his mouth. 

_(Do I wanna know) If this feelin' flows both ways?_

_(Sad to see you go) Was sorta hopin' that you'd stay_

_(Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made_

_For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day_

_(Do I wanna know?) Too busy bein' yours to fall_

_(Sad to see you go) Ever thought of callin', darlin'?_

_(Do I wanna know?) Do you want me crawlin' back to you?_

When Adrian’s moans got increasingly louder, he knew he had to stop, and he pulled back, standing up and reaching for the lube. Adrian was already a mess, breathing fast and trying not to come. It was a definite struggle given how talented Trevor was with his mouth and how riled he up he was already. Trevor got his finger slick and ready. But Adrian didn’t know if he was ready for it. Adrian was inexperienced, but he still knew it usually hurt. The combination of fear of pain and embarrassment mixed together and he gulped. Trevor pushed his thigh back with his free hand, holding it down, but he didn’t touch him yet, looking up at golden eyes for permission. When he saw nervousness there, he drew back a little.

“Do you want to do this?” He asked, dark eyebrows raised. It seemed like Adrian might have been changing his mind about it. The blonde let out a breath. 

“I heard it hurts a lot.” He made eye contact with Trevor, who made a noncommital noise. 

“It can, but we don’t have to do that. Or, I can try warming you up a little and you can see if you like it. I’ll be gentle... so it won’t hurt.” That calmed Adrian and he let out another breath. He nodded, relaxing back down on the bed and raising his hand to caress Trevor’s neck and shoulder. Trevor kissed his cheek softly, sweetly, then his lips. Adrian easily closed his eyes and hiked his leg up around Trevor’s hip. As Trevor laid kisses to his lips, sweeter than honey, he took his slick finger and began to tease his enterance. Sweetly, affectionately. Gentle movements and easy circles. He took his time, enjoying the feeling of Adrians plush lips and warm body up against him. Somehow just having the blonde’s leg wrapped around his hip felt so good, so right. New but completely enjoyable.

After a while, Adrian was definitely getting warmer, and Trevor was able to slip in deeper. Soon throaty moans filled the room and Trevor soaked them all up. Making him feel pleasure was like a game for him, somehow, and Trevor enjoyed winning. He drew back from Adrian’s lips to see him in full view. Desperate ecstasy contorted his pale features, and after a flick of Trevor’s carefully placed finger, he cried out, overwhelmed by the pleasure.

“Trevor, Trevor!” He groaned, moving against his hand. Blue eyes flicked down and he could see just how close Adrian was. He could feel his legs tightening, toes clenching. So he decided to stop teasing. Adrian was so far gone it could hardly count as teasing, anyway. The blonde writhed. His back arched when Trevor picked up the speed, and a low sound erupted from his throat, like a warning. Trevor smirked at that noise; he enjoyed knowing that he was bringing Adrian to the edge. It was something he had wanted to do for a long time. With his free hand, he stroked him, and the combination of pleasure was too much for Adrian to take. 

“Aah! Ah! Trevor,” he moaned, getting louder and louder until the climax overcame him. It was a harder orgasm than Adrian had ever experienced, and he physically shook at the feeling. Trevor huffed, smiling, breathing heavily and eventually removing his hands. Adrian couldn’t even hear himself, but his moans carried on for some time, drawing out to a low sound and then stopping, replaced by short, uneven breaths. His legs went limp, and a contented sigh escaped his lips as the feeling of heaviness overcame him. Trevor didn’t even comment, as he knew what it was, so he just cleaned his hands and then Adrian’s stomach without being asked. 

“Fuck! I’m sorry.”

“What?” Trevor looked up at the beauty, a blonde curl stuck to his forehead and the rest rumpled and undeniably sexy. _He looks so good like this... delicious and destroyed._

“I came too early. I’m sorry.” He looked a little ashamed of himself, bottom lip pouting. Trevor chuckled.

“It’s okay. Really. It’s fine.” Adrian sat up at that, trying to come back to reality after his orgasm. He smoothed down his hair and looked down at the bulging erection in Trevor’s sweatpants, painfully neglected.

“What about you?” He asked, smiling in a daze of pleasure.

“What?”

“It’s your turn.” There was a warm heady sensation spreading throughout his whole lower body, and he wanted to give that same pleasure to Trevor. It wasn’t a feeling Adrian was used to, and obviously, his lack of experience with a man said something about how reluctant he was to go down on another guy, but at that moment everything seemed right and the act seemed enjoyable instead of repellant.

“Oh,” Trevor realized Adrian hadn’t even touched him yet, chuckling a little under his breath. He started unlacing his sweatpants but Adrian took over, breathing fast in the process. There was a rush, after all. He scooted up on the bed so they were right next to one another and wrapped his hand around Trevor’s dick, humming when he felt the smooth skin in his hand. Trevor blushed a little at the sight and the feeling. He knew he was getting quite red and frustrated down there, his skin a deep reddish color. But then Adrian was kissing him, his jaw, his throat. It felt very good and somehow made him feel weak in the knees, probably because he was standing up. He let himself moan, very softly, when Adrian picked up the pace, gripping more tightly and confidently, jerking him off in swift motions.

“You look so good,” Adrian sighed, looking up from his chiseled abdomen to his handsome face, lips slick from wet kisses. Trevor looked away, fully blushing at that, and Adrian kissed him again, not a regret in the world. It was more erotic when they were naked, but also more romantic somehow. 

“Here, sit,” Adrian told him, getting off the bed and moving so Trevor could sit down. He kneeled down and took Trevor's member in his hand again, stroking it a little and licking his lips. Trevor had his arms behind him propping him up. The sight of Adrian’s pink lips on him, kissing him, was almost too much to bear. He wouldn’t admit it to the blonde, because he would be embarrassed, but he had been dreaming of Adrian doing this for a long time. Picturing it. The reality was even better. 

“Mrgh,” he grunted, exhaling through his nose when Adrian took him in his mouth. It had been quite a while since he had been with a guy, but the few guys he had been with absolutely paled in comparison. Not in technique, given Adrian had never done it before, but in beauty. When golden eyes flicked up to look at him, mouth open, pink tongue on full display, Trevor knew Adrian was the prettiest man in the whole universe. There was no doubt, no comparison. 

“Wow." He was not able to keep himself from expressing some sort of admiration. The blonde smiled briefly, and went back down, laying kisses from the base to the tip, licking, tasting. They both tried to put away any residual nervousness and enjoy it for what it was, no matter the circumstances. And eventually, Trevor came undone himself, tossing his head back and groaning like a man in pain. 

Adrian cleaned himself up afterwards and crawled towards Trevor on the bed, turning around. Trevor moved back to sit against the headboard as he came down from his orgasm, breathing heavily, his broad chest expanding and contracting quickly. Adrian reached over to grab a tissue, and then he turned back around, taking out a cigarette and lighter from his end table. The only sounds were their breathing and the click of the metallic lighter as Adrian lit up. 

“The music stopped,” Trevor exhaled. Then he smirked. He felt good. 

“I hadn’t noticed,” Adrian smirked right back, settling against him. Trevor wrapped a muscular arm around him, appreciating the feeling of Adrian’s warm skin pressed up against his own. He pulled a throw blanket over their lower halves and leaned back again, another sigh escaping his lips. Adrian rested his head on Trevor’s muscular shoulder, exhaling smoke slowly. 

“Thank you," Adrian whispered.

Trevor turned, trying to look at him, scowling a little in confusion. 

“Thank you?”

“That was just what I needed,” Adrian explained, taking a drag and tipping his head back fully, relaxing. Trevor caught his lidded gaze for a moment. He stole the cigarette from between Adrian’s pink lips, taking it for himself.

“You’re welcome,” he smirked, taking a drag, “that was pretty hot.” Adrian smiled, seemingly happy, and kissed Trevor’s stubbly cheek. There was an intimate moment between them, a warmth, but then Adrian's expression changed, and all of a sudden he was remembering something and getting up. 

“What is it?” It seemed like he was rushed, quickly pulling up his underwear and rooting around for a pair of pants in a drawer.

“I have an exam,” he tripped on Trevor’s sweatpants a little, rushing to his phone, “in like twenty-five minutes. Fuck, I need to get over there.” He quickly stepped into the black skinny jeans and zipped them up, looking over his shoulder, messy blonde hair flying around. Trevor just stared at him, caught off guard by the whole situation.

“Okay.”

“Sorry I can’t stay,” he apologized, “I’m leaving straight from the exam. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“You’re going to the city?” 

“Yes, I have to go home... I’m grounded.” He said it casually, slipping on a loose sweater and putting on some deodorant.

“What?” Trevor huffed in disbelief, “What because of the pictures? Your parents found out?”

“They did,” Adrian sighed, brushing his hair quickly, “And now I’m in trouble. Serious trouble. We’re on the front page of the tabloids, you know. Well, I am. Your face isn’t visible.”

“Wait, what?! A tabloid?” Trevor startled, moving to the edge of the bed and putting out the cigarette. He had no idea. Adrian was grabbing his things, ready to leave, it seemed. He tossed a copy of the National Enquirer in Trevor’s lap. 

“Holy fucking shit. That’s- that’s us. Oh, fuck,” he muttered, scowling at the printed Snapchat images and juicy headlines. “This is _insane_. Who- who cares enough to put this on the front page of a magazine? Are they fucking serious?"

“People love trashy gossip, what can I say? My dad's famous. I don’t give a fuck anymore. That’s why I’m acting strange. Everyone found out about us. They found out that I'm not straight, which my dad has been weird about for years, but- there’s not much to hide anymore. Except, wait, why were you wearing that jersey?”

Trevor blinked, trying to understand everything that was going on. There were a lot of things to put together. A deep scowl contorted his handsome features.

“I- I put on my friend’s because mine was all sweaty from practice and I didn’t want to go back to my dorm,” he muttered, flipping through the magazine in disbelief. 

_Adrian Tepes, 19, son of tech mangate and multi billionaire Dracula Tepes, was seen last night at a frat party in Rochester, New York, where he goes to college at Wallachia University. He was locking lips with an unknown young man at the party, likely another student. The student and part time IMG model, Adrian, has yet to reveal his sexual identity, but-_

“Well, my dad thinks your last name is Crawford for now, so that's good. You still have anonymity. Delete your Instagram if you don’t want to be found out. That’s my advice.” Trevor watched him zip up his suitcase and stand it up.

“What? Seriously?” Adrian felt bad leaving when there was so much going on but he didn't really have a choice.

“Yeah. My dad’s extremely protective and invasive, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to find your profiles. And other people too, looking for a story. Just, look- if you don’t want him knowing who you are, or other people, I would delete your profiles for now. Hopefully, everyone will just leave the story alone. There might be paparazzi around, the might not. I don't know. They stalk my parents sometimes, I’m just warning you. And I have to have my bodyguard with me 24/7 now, just in case. But you can do whatever you want, obviously.”

“I’ll delete my profiles. I don’t want him to find out about me. Or anyone. I just... want to be left alone.”

“Okay,” Adrian seemed like he was waiting to leave, “I’m sorry about this. But you know who I am, so, yeah,” he drifted off, thinking of what to say, “I don’t know what’s gonna happen exactly. I hope it just blows over and people lose interest. But if you want to lay low, just don’t go on social media and stuff, ignore any weird emails, and probably just hang out with Sypha or something.”

“Sypha’s leaving town. She’s flying back to Cali tomorrow. She said she texted you but you never responded.”

“ _Shit._ I’ll respond. After the test. Okay, well, you have your dorm room, right? Are you,” he hesitated, “You’re okay?” He wanted to make sure, hoping his leaving so soon didn’t seem like abandonment. But it couldn’t really be helped. 

“Yeah,” Trevor scoffed, reaching for his t-shirt on the ground, “I’ll be fine. I’ll just ignore people if they’re weird, or tell them to fuck off and mind their own business.” He sounded confident and that made Adrian a bit relieved.

“Good, that’s good,” he sat down on the bed next to him, leaning in close, “I - I’m glad we did this. I mean I could do without the whole tabloid blitz, but still, I- I wanted to. Anyway, I gotta go.” He kissed Trevor’s lips quickly, a goodbye kiss. “You can stay here if you want- just lock up and everything. There’s another set of keys in the junk drawer.” 

“Oh, I’ll lock up when I go. You’re fine with me having a key?”

“Sure, whatever,” he muttered breezily, texting his driver, “it’s fine. I don’t care. You can take a shower if you want. I don’t have time right now.”

“When are you coming back to Rochester?” Trevor wondered, watching Adrian leave, suitcase in hand. He was a little disappointed seeing him go. The blonde looked back over his shoulder.

“I have no idea.”

* * *

When Adrian got off his flight his father’s driver was waiting for him at the airport. His bodyguard had never left his sight. Adrian was used to the feeling of being watched. Something in him sank when he realized that he might be watched every day in the future, either by bodyguards, paparazzi, or both. He would miss having freedom. Rochester was a relatively small city, and not too exciting, but he loved the anonymity. When he was on his own and not a pace behind his father, people left him alone for the most part. But in the city, he usually felt watched. It was not a feeling he enjoyed. He loved being alone in a crowd. Being one person out of thousands. It was something he never had in his youth.

They walked out to the pickup lane and the driver silently picked up his suitcase and stowed it in the back of the Cullinan. 

“Thank you.” Adrian slid into the backseat and then the feeling of dread returned. The drive was quiet, and smooth, but somehow it was all wrong. Like the calm before a storm. Worry crept up inside him, and he imagined that once they were all together, another argument would ensue. Nothing had really been resolved in the morning. Mainly he was fearful of was his father somehow convincing Lisa that he needed Adrian to withdraw from college or live at home. And work for CTC full time or something. He didn’t imagine his mother going along with those plans but she was concerned herself, and Adrian knew that. The smoking was the main concern for her, and he suspected that she thought he was cheating on Sypha, too. That didn't bode well for him and he knew it.

On arrival, Adrian sighed. The sight of the mansion, bright in darkness, only made him more upset. He stepped inside. Golden chandeliers and shiny marble floors. Pretty statues and gleaming surfaces. A gilded cage if there ever was one.

Barking on the other side of the house gave him a hint of where his family was, and so he ambled down the spacious hallways and through the foyer, past the enormous kitchen and finally, into the casual living room, where he found his parents engaged in discussion. The room was unreasonably large, as many of the rooms in the house were, and his parents looked tiny on the massive L-shaped couch. His father’s dog, Hades, was asleep on the carpet by the coffee table. He was the only one that looked comfortable.

“It doesn’t matter, Lisa, because even if we do that, then-” his father’s voice was low, engaged in heated discussion. He sat forward on the couch, arm extended like he was trying to persuade her. But Lisa was facing the kitchen and immediately saw her son walk in.

“Adrian!” She alerted his presence, standing up right away. “Hello, dear. How was your flight? Did you have any trouble?” Adrian's face was impassive. 

“No. I’m fine.”

“Hello, son,” Vlad turned around, eyes lidded. He looked exhausted, but Adrian didn’t care. He hated being ordered around. Confined to the house. Followed every minute by a bodyguard. It made him feel like a child again. 

“What were you two talking about?”

A long sigh. Lisa rubbed his shoulder. She smiled in kindness, or possibly reconciliation. His mother didn’t like their family to be in conflict, and always tried to mend things, but Adrian and his father had been having lots of conflict as of late. More than she could content with. Her beautiful blue eyes were red, Adrian noticed, like she had been crying. It made him feel bad for a moment before he realized that his father could very well be the reason for her bleary eyes. 

“We’re just discussing things. It’s okay. Did you wash up? I’ll get you something to eat.”

“Did you already eat dinner?” He sighed. He hadn't eaten for a long time.

“Oh, no, we didn’t eat yet,” she looked over at her husband briefly. He seemed prickly, even in silence. Like the thorn in his side had been tugged on, but never pulled out. Adrian glared at him. “I am a bit peckish. I’ll tell Jean to make us something.”

“Okay. I’m going to take a shower,” he muttered walking away. The trek to his bedroom felt longer than usual. After a long shower, he dressed, dried his hair, and made his way downstairs, full of dread but he knew there was no turning back. He was resolved. If his father didn’t like his actions, then he would just deal with the consequences. Adrian refused to apologize any longer. There was life to be lived, and he wasn’t going to spend the rest of it under his father’s shiny boot. It scared him, taking that step, but it needed to be done. 

* * *

Dinner was in the smaller dining room that night for some reason unknown to him. Right off of the kitchen. There were too many rooms in the house, Adrian supposed, and it was hard to ever even use them all. He would have preferred the large dining room because it would have put more distance between him and his father. Lisa was trying to be casual, smiling politely even though the air was tense between them, passing a bottle of Perrier to Adrian.

“Do you want some?”

“Sure,” he accepted, pouring the sparkling water. The sound broke up the silence between them. The modern fireplace crackled in the other room. Vlad stared at his plate. Chicken kiev. He wasn't eating.

Adrian looked over at him, and they shared a brief moment of uncomfortable eye contact. His father didn’t smile. He didn’t say anything. As time passed, Adrian wondered if his mother had done something, or if he was doing it on purpose. 

“This is good,” Lisa hummed, taking a bite of the chicken. “Really, it is, aren’t you hungry, Adrian?” He blinked at her and down at the salmon. They sat for a minute in a strange silence. Words left unsaid. He looked up again and his father was staring at him once more, this time leaning back in his chair, fingers wrapped around a glass of red wine. 

“Why are you staring at me?” The blonde snapped, irritated at his judgemental glare. 

“I’m not- I’m just,” he paused, “thinking.” The word was loaded, and the low, calm tone he used did nothing to soften the blow. Adrian knew what his father meant even if no one else did. But he was sick of playing games. Completely and entirely.

“It’s obvious you’re still mad at me, dad. Why don’t you just get it out, or stop, or something? I can’t eat with you glaring at me.” 

“Watch your tone. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately. You do not speak to me like that. Mind your manners.” He looked like a king, leaned back in his wingback dining chair, face angled downwards, eyes sharply gleaming. 

“Let’s just try to be calm and have a family dinner,” Lisa sighed, “and be kind to one another, okay?” 

“Of course, dear.” Vlad smiled sweetly, and Adrian looked between them. He sighed through his nose. Another headache coming on. Lisa took a drink of water, desperately trying to start a comfortable conversation that just wasn’t going to happen.

“So, Adrian, how was your exam?” Her smile was bright but the mood was dark and it didn't help.

“It was fine.”

“How are your papers coming along? Did you get any done?”

“No, I haven’t. I have two left to write. But I was busy, so I haven’t written them yet.”

“Were you packing for a long time? I thought you had a whole other wardrobe here,” Lisa scowled, taking a bite of asparagus. Adrian shook his head, dabbing the corner of his mouth with a napkin. He wasn’t very hungry anymore. An idea occurred to him, and he went with it, ready to get everything out in the air. He was ready to be done with it all, all the bullshit, and he knew exactly how to start. Adrian knew a barb his father couldn't resist. 

“No, I wasn’t packing.” He looked up, watching his father take a sip of wine, “I was with my friend... The one from the photo.” The words were casual, almost amicable, but Vlad scowled nontheless. 

“What?” He snapped, face contorting into anger, “ _Why? Why where you with him?_ ” It set him off almost instantly. Adrian could tell from the way he sat forward in his chair and put his glass down. He didn't care. 

Everything comes out in the end. And Adrian was ready for the end.

“I fucked him.” 

  
  


* * *

**A/N: Muahahahhaha... take that. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you to everyone who reads this story. I love you.**

**Please review :)**


	23. An Ultimatum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things change for Adrian in unexpected ways.

The words came easily enough. Adrian did enjoy the way his father’s face contorted at that, although he couldn’t entirely understand why. Lisa laughed in surprise. 

“Really?” It was amusing to her, if a bit startling. Adrian turned to face her, nodding. He grabbed the bottle of red wine and poured some for himself without asking. Vlad stared at his son in shock, stupefied. Those words were not something he had ever expected to hear from him. There was an obvious grimace on his face.

“What? Today?” He blinked, eyes wide.

“Yes, today.” Adrian took a sip of red wine and smiled slightly. His mom was still chuckling to herself, finding it hilarious. He was never usually so outspoken. Adrian had said it with comedic flair, but she was the only one who found it funny.

“When?!” Dracula continued, scowling with a slight sneer. Adrian tilted his head, looking away and thinking.

“From, let see, 1:10 to 1:35.” Vlad just gritted his teeth and Adrian found the expression comical somehow. He laughed a little, and Lisa joined in. Soon they were both laughing and Vlad was digging his nails into the arms of his chair in anger.

“Well, hah, good for you!" Lisa giggled, "What’s his name?”

“Trevor.”

“Oh. Okay. So, how di-” Lisa started, but Vlad cut her off with the raise of his hand. Her expression fell when he did that. She hated that. 

“Lisa, stop. This is-” he exhaled angrily, teeth gritted. He was glaring daggers at his son. “This is not acceptable, Adrian. I don’t know why the hell the two of you are laughing. I for one don’t think this is funny. And I don’t know what has gotten into you lately, Adrian.  _ Jesus.  _ I told you not to go anywhere. I didn’t want this to become a bigger scandal than it already is. And I didn’t want you to be seen today outside of your lecture hall or the airport. I’m already dealing with the mess you created last night, and now you’re making it worse?” Lisa actually rolled her eyes at him, which Vlad ignored. 

“I didn’t go anywhere else,” Adrian spoke up, “He came to my place. And I kept him out of sight. No one saw him but me. Not even the driver. We walked from class.” Adrian’s face was stone once more, but he was bound not to break this time. He promised himself he wouldn’t cry, he wouldn’t give in. It took resolve and courage, but he had already decided to go forward with his plan. 

“Just go ahead and say it. You have no other way to criticize me. No other option. No one saw us, no one knew he was there. We both wanted to do it. We had sex in my private apartment with the door locked,” when Adrian saw no change in his father’s expression, he continued, “But it’s still not acceptable to you, is it? Because you still think it’s wrong… because he’s a man and I’m a man. So go, on, say it! Say I’m disgusting. I’m demented.” Adrian spat the words out. The words he imagined his father to be thinking.

“No,” Vlad growled, his voice dangerously low, on edge. He was bordering on another tantrum, Adrian could tell. But Adrian was prepared this time, and he wasn’t going to back down. 

“Isn’t that what you’re thinking? How gross, my son is sleeping with another man? What a disgusting faggot?” Lisa gasped at that word, setting down her wine glass, mouth agape. 

“Okay, there’s no need for that talk. Let’s take a breath.” Lisa tried her best but she was not able to alleviate the tension. Not when both her husband and son were bound on fighting. 

“Say it in front of mom! You don’t want me sleeping with men. You think I’m disgusting.” Vlad exalted through his sneer.

“No, no. That’s not it at all. I don’t think you’re disgusting. I never said that. And I would never call you that,” his father retorted, looking down at the table, then away, brows furrowed.

“Then, what’s the problem?” He challenged. Vlad took it easily, looking up at him.

“The problem is that you’re acting out lately. You’re acting strangely. Very strangely. Not like yourself. First the smoking, then the parties, and the pot. And now - sleeping with that boy. After an argument, just before an important exam. And telling us about it. I deliberately told you ‘no hookups’, do you not understand what that means?” 

“It wasn’t a hookup. We know each other. I like him. And you shouldn’t be in charge of my sex life, anyway. I’m an adult.”

“Earlier this morning you said you barely knew him.”

“I said I knew him a little. It wasn’t a lie,” Adrian defended himself. They were both in murky waters, and they knew that. Vlad exhaled in frustration. 

“It doesn’t matter. You’re acting out. I know you, you would never do something like that unless you had a reason. And you brought it up here, so abruptly, so crudely, at dinner. In front of your mother and me. To make a spectacle. It’s like you’re _purposefully_ trying to test my limits and break my rules. Like you’re trying to fight with me on purpose. I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Adrian, really, I don’t. But I won’t have it. This has to stop.”

“Vlad-” Lisa started, scowling at him and wishing they would both stop. Her husband snapped to look at her, sitting forward in his chair, arm raised.

“Something has to be done about this. Don’t you remember the smoking, Lisa? And the pot? He’s acting out. I’m not going to just let him get away with it.” Lisa made a noise that meant she was annoyed with him.

“Well, be reasonable, Vlad. I don’t like the smoking either, but please don’t get too worked up. He’ll be okay. He’ll get past it. Teenagers do stupid things, it’s alright. I know doctors who smoked in college and dropped it. It’s okay. And he’s not addicted to weed. That’s ridiculous.”

“I know that. But it’s not that - it’s the disobedience that’s bothering me. I told him to quit smoking, and he didn’t, I told him no parties, no hookups, no marijuana, no scandals. And here we are today with a tabloid blitz, getting our name dragged through the mud.” He turned back to his son, “It’s not like I didn’t tell you, Adrian. It’s not like I didn’t prepare you for this.  _ I did. _ I warned you and you  _ chose  _ to disobey me. Something has to happen. You can’t just act like this and get away with it. I’m very upset with you.” 

“I’m not going to apologize. It’s my life.”

A long sigh. Then a grumble under his breath that Adrian couldn't understand.

“What are you going to do?” Adrian asked, trying not to be worried, but his breaths were coming a little faster. A little shallower. 

“I don’t know, I think... perhaps you need a break. Maybe you should come back home for a while. And return to college later on. I’ve obviously given you too much freedom, and you’re abusing it.” He slumped back in his chair.

“Too much freedom?” Adrian deadpanned, and then he started laughing. First, it was soft and then it grew deeper, heavier. Darker. Vlad scowled, leaning back and watching on with confusion.

“ _Too much freedom?_ _You’ve_ given  _ me _ too much freedom?!” He was almost wheezing from laughter.

“Adrian, what-” Vlad was shocked by the downright crazed look in his son’s eyes.

“So now,” Adrian wheezed, trying to stop laughing, “now you’re going to make me move back home? And I’m not allowed to see him anymore? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“For now, I think that would be best, yes. You seem-” he eyed his son cautiously given the wild look in his eye, “out of sorts… Perhaps this was a bad idea altogether, having you go up there by yourself. You’re only nineteen, but I thought you could handle it, because you’re usually so mature. In the past, you have been. Most of the time. But maybe that’s simply a bad environment for you to be in. It’s probably just too wild there, too much of a college town.”

“You were fine with me sleeping around when it was a woman. You said, and I quote ‘Things aren’t so formal anymore. Enjoy yourself’. But apparently, you meant  _ only  _ with women.” Vlad inhaled sharply, annoyed at that.

“Well, it wasn’t like that. You’re twisting my words, Adrian. I said it was fine with her because I saw what she was like. She seemed like a nice girl. Very pretty. She worked with the Peace Corps. And I told you to ask her out. I meant that you should date her, because you clearly wanted to at the time. You told me so. But I know things don’t always go that way nowadays. That’s why I said that. With this young man,  _ Trevor _ ,” he scoffed at the name, “you didn’t tell me anything. You kept it hidden from me because you  _ knew  _ I wouldn't like him. He’s not the type of person I want you being around at all. Doing drugs, going to frat parties, doing beer pong or whatever it is these idiots do nowadays. Honestly, Adrian, I can’t believe you would want to be with someone like that. He’s- I’ll be frank, he’s a _dumb jock._ A  _ nobody _ . Going nowhere in life. Probably doing poorly in his classes, not sure about his future. Cares more about partying and getting drunk than his career and his exams… go ahead, which part is wrong?” Adrian said nothing, he just gritted his teeth. Vlad sighed knowingly and continued,

“I wouldn’t want you to be spending much time with anyone like that- a beer-chugging frat boy- let alone  _ sleeping with him. Jesus Christ.  _ Now, if he was a respectable and put together young man, with a good head on his shoulders, and without a drug or alcohol problem, I would be having a very different reaction. But you didn’t tell me about him precisely because you know I wouldn’t approve of him.” Adrian was pissed off to hear someone talk about Trevor that way. And, although he wasn’t thinking it himself, it lit a fire underneath him because he knew that when he first met Trevor that’s what he thought of him, even though it was an unfair assumption. Subconsciously Adrian knew that his father represented the judgemental, condescending part of himself. More than that, he was that part of himself, he made Adrian that way. But after knowing what Trevor was really like, and how kind and intelligent he really could be, he wanted, very fervently, to set him straight. To tell his father off, a man who was almost never contradicted. A man so arrogant he thought he could say anything he wanted.

“You don’t even know him,” he got up from the table, feeling too much energy in his body, wanting to pace. “He’s not an idiot. He’s actually very smart, just not in a polished sense. He’s clever and he’s really nice to me now. He treats me well," Adrian started speaking faster and louder, beginning to rant, " _ He treats me a lot better than you do, and you’re my father! _ ” Vlad’s face contorted, brows drawn together. He hadn’t expected that.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for one thing, he actually _showed up_ to my concert at Carnegie Hall! He was the only person to show up except for mom, and she left. He was the only one to come to my party. And he does not have a drug problem. Most college students smoke pot every so often, the majority, I would say. It’s not a big deal. And a person’s character is a lot more important than their addictions, anyway. What matters is if they’re a good person. Deep down. How they treat people. That’s what matters.” Vlad changed the subject quickly, looking away.

“Well, I don't want you doing it. Period. I made it a rule. No marijuana. No drugs. None. I let you drink, even though you’re underage. That should be enough. The way you’re acting lately, it’s - just inexcusable.”

“It’s inexcusable? _It’s inexcusable?_ _He makes me happy!_ That’s the excuse. He cares about me. _You_ don’t care about me. You don’t even talk to me anymore _unless you want something from me_. Do you know what’s inexcusable? Not coming to watch me perform at Carnegie Hall when I won a grand prize for my violin solo! Not supporting me when I’ve gone through depression! Telling me to toughen up and move on. Leaving me alone for weeks on end with no one to talk to but the help! Months, sometimes. Taking me on business trips with you and dragging me to Order meetings like I’m a fucking accessory! Like I’m a chess piece you can move about however you want. _I’m not a fucking chess piece!_ I’m a human being. I’m not a pawn in your games.”

“Of course you’re not a pawn!” Vlad shouted, standing up himself, moving closer, “Adrian, don’t be ridiculous. You’re not a pawn, but you are  _ my son _ ,” his words were heavy, heated as Adrian’s were but with a father’s stubbornness, “You’re my child, and I can make you do what I think is best for you. What I think is in your best interest. It doesn’t matter that you’re technically an adult. You’re still my son. I take care of you. I pay for everything that you do, I put a roof over your head. I guide you. I look after you. And I want what is best for you. This- this hockey player, this frat boy, is not what’s best for you. I don’t want you around that. That’s what I mean.” 

“Just say it. Just fucking say it. I’m sick of this.”

“ _Say what?_ ” Vlad retorted. Adrian let out a breath, looking at him straight on, unafraid.

“Say you want me to be straight. Out loud. In front of mom.”

“I never said that,” he huffed, like the idea was prosperous. 

“You have heavily, heavily implied for years that you want me to be straight. And totally cisgender. And dress like a Brooks Brothers mannequin. You never say the words outright, you just try to convince me to change in all these little ways. You think I don't see what you’re doing?  _ That I don't get it? _ ” Adrian’s voice was rising, his body language and tone both putting his parents on edge. Something had definitely snapped, and he was lashing out vindictively. Vlad could only sit in astonishment, wide-eyed, as he watched his son berate him so passionately. 

“Everything is a game to you. But you forget- you forget that I’m _just_ as smart as you. I am. I don’t go along with your manipulation because I fall for it. I’ve just been too tired or too scared of you to do anything about it. Or I didn’t see the point because I didn’t know any better. I didn’t know other people’s parents don’t treat them like this. But I see right through it. I always have. I know what every little comment is supposed to make me think. I’m too feminine. I’m too liberal. I’m too weak.  _ I’m not fucking weak! _ I’ve  _ never _ been weak. But I put up with it. I put up your  _ bullshit!  _ Trying to tell me what to wear, what to think, what to do, where to go, what to say. I put up with it because I loved you and I thought it would be easier than confronting you. I thought if I finally figured it out, if I finally mastered this perfect image, if I did every single thing exactly right, exactly how you want, then you’d love me. 

And no matter how hard I try, it doesn’t work. _ It never does. _

And if I do something right for once, if I win a competition, if I get perfect grades, you ignore me. You don’t talk to me for weeks. You don’t return my calls. And I’m left thinking ‘why is he doing that? Didn’t I do everything he wanted?’ And I try to figure out how to be even better, how to be even more perfect, more successful and do whatever it is that will make you love me. I’ve worked and worked until I’ve gotten sleep deprivation for you, I’ve studied so much I’ve passed out from literal fucking exhaustion, I played violin for hours and hours until my fingers hurt like hell and I got huge calluses. I’ve spent most of my very limited free time with you, sitting beside you, doing nothing and acting like your fucking puppet while you drag me along from meeting to meeting, country to country. Telling me where to go, how to act. ‘ _ Sit up straight, do your homework, eat your salad, don’t get a tattoo. Don’t stay out late. Don’t talk back. Don’t wear that, here wear this. Don’t be yourself! Be quiet, be respectful, be attentive. Do this for me, and this, and this, and this. I don’t care if you’re bored, I don’t care if you hate it, you have to do what I say. _ ’ 

I’ve stressed so much about what you’ll think and what you’ll feel and what you’ll do to me if I mess up. I’ve stressed so much I’ve gotten stomach ulcers, migraines, muscle knots. I stress so much _ that I don’t even know how to relax! _ I don’t know how to live my life. Because my life has really just been all about you. All there ever is is pleasing you and living my life for you. It’s all what you want. Everything how you want it. You want me to go to college there, and do this major, and wear this outfit, and go to this meeting, and work on this code for CTC even though you have a thousand other programmers. And  _ I did it! _ ” He laughed, manically, frantically, “I fucking did it for you. Because it’s all I’ve ever known. It’s all I’ve ever felt. Pleasing you or not pleasing you. Doing something right or doing something wrong. I don’t even know who I am, I don’t even know what I want, because it’s always been about you! Because you created me, and I owe everything to you, and I’d never have this wealth without you, and you’ve given me every opportunity, and you get to dictate every minute of my life because you’re Dracula  _ Fucking  _ Tepes and everyone is scared of you. Everyone wants you to like them, they want you to care about them, because you’re  _ so important! _ And I did. I did care, I wanted you to love me and care about me. I wanted to be perfect for you and please you and be a goddamn cookie-cutter straight boy that you can have sitting next to you and look nice but say nothing. I really did care about your opinion of me. It dictated my whole life. But I’m done with that.  _ Do you hear me?! _ I fucking done. _I’m_ _ done! _ ”

Vlad was too stunned to say anything. He just watched in abject horror as his son’s anger boiled over, mouth agape. Adrian continued on. 

“Guess what? I’m not straight! I like having sex with guys sometimes. I'd even like to try dating a guy. So what? Get over it, jackass. I like painting my nails black and listening to weird music and I’m never going to join The Order!  _ Ever! _ I don’t want to. I’m not what you want me to be. No matter how hard you try. And you can force me, of course, you can. I’d be powerless against you. You have everything. You have all the money in the world, you have eyes everywhere, I could never be free of you if you wanted to follow me. You could force me to drop out of college, and lock me in the house, and have your bodyguards follow me everywhere. And you can try to force me to your perfect son, but I won’t be! I’m not straight, I’m not perfect, I don’t want to work for the company. I want a life of my own without your interference.

You can take everything away from me. You can take away my cars and my apartment and my clothes. You can take away my trips and my plans. My future, my aspirations. And you can even take away the people I love. You can… You have the power do that. You have the power to do whatever you want. But let me tell you something. The moment you take me away from the people I care about, I will not be your son anymore. You can force me to be straight, and to move back home, and to work at the company, and go on every trip with you, and sit next to you every night at dinner. But I will be  _ dead  _ inside. I won’t look at you, I won’t talk to you, I won’t answer you. I’ll sit there and be your empty little chess piece and you can move from place to place, house to house. I’ll be your perfect china doll, your puppet. Like you always wanted.

And I’ll  _ hate _ you. And I’ll  _ never, ever _ forgive you for it. For taking away the one thing in my life that brought me joy- he is one of the few things in my whole life that makes me happy! My friends there, they're the best I've ever had. And I'm just getting to know them and you're already taking me away. And- You’ve already taken so much away from me. My career, my future, my time, my aspirations, my choices, my anonymity, my freedom. Every time that I meet people it’s a monumental struggle to get them to trust me, even a little bit-  _ because of you!  _ Because I’m  _ your  _ son. And I have to deal with that all the time. People won’t trust me. Do you know how hard it is for me to have anyone be friends with me at all? I’ve spent most of my life depressed and alone and miserable- _ because of you! _ Because of  _ your  _ reputation,  _ your _ misdeeds,  _ your _ past! You’ve ruined my reputation before I even get a chance. And you want to take me away from him? From my friends? The only people in my life I’ve known who have gotten past all of that and chosen to care about me and to put up with all the bullshit in my life? You want to take me away from them?” Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he yelled at him, but he willed them away. He took a shallow breath.

“Let me be very blunt with you, father. If you do this, if you take away the only joy left in my life, if you separate me from the only people who truly care about me… _I will fucking despise you._ For taking away the last shred of happiness I had left. For  _ completely ruining my life. _ ”

A silence, heavy as lead, passed between them. Lisa was crying softly on the other side of the table. Eventually, Adrian looked up, noticing his father approaching. It was hard to see with the tears in his eyes. Then he felt two large hands on his shoulders, felt the weight of them pressing down.

“Adrian,” he choked, “My boy. My sweet boy.” He pulled Adrian into an embrace and held him tightly. Adrian didn’t move, he didn’t stop him. He didn’t know what to do. He had expected more yelling. So he just stood there and cried. After a while it did hurt. It pulled at his heartstrings to hear his father sobbing against his shoulder. After a few long, heavy moments, he pulled away and held Adrian’s pretty head in his hands.

“Son, that’s the last thing I would ever want to do to you- _ruining your life_ -” he choked in a soft sob, “Adrian, I never- that- that wasn’t my intention. That would never-” he tried to go on but there was a knot in his throat. So he just held him again, almost falling against him, like he was about to collapse. Tears ran down his pale cheeks. Adrian could hardly believe it. After a while, Vlad pulled himself together, wiping the tears away and standing up straight.

“But you are right, lately I’ve cared more about what I wanted than your happiness. I can see that now,” a desperate sigh, a slight intake of breath, a flicker of guilt in his eyes, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Truly, I am, Adrian. I didn’t know you were so unhappy. I just thought you were... serious. You’ve always been sort of serious, I didn’t think it was-” he left off the word, moving on instead, stepping back a pace, “Please, son, don’t let me ruin your happiness. That’s not what I want- of course not. I would never want you to be miserable. How could you think that?” Adrian’s jaw was set tight, clenched uncomfortably. He wanted to prevent himself from totally cracking, from breaking apart into a million pieces like he usually did. So he ignored the tears welling up in his eyes and went on.

“You don’t support me. You don’t care about me, really. You show up only when you want to, you talk to me only when you want to. You say you’ll support me and you don’t show up. You didn’t come to my concert. It was like- the biggest success of my life and you didn’t give a shit. You said it was childish for me to be upset that you never showed. You won’t let me pick a major like you said you would. And you said, when I came out, that you’d support me,” he had to swallow hard to get past the lump in own his throat, and it was hard. He blinked up at Dracula, determined to get everything out that he wanted to say.

“You said you’d support me and well, here we are, you’re not supporting me. You’re punishing me. You’re threatening me and trying to manipulate me. You’re punishing me for finding someone, because it’s not what  _ you  _ want. You want me to cut my hair and to work for the company and to have a perfect little girlfriend that you pre-approve. You want me to fall into your vision. You want me to do exactly what you say, all the time, like you’re my master. You were never supportive…” his expression changed then into despair, and he could barely get the words out, “It was just another lie. You want me to be straight, and perfect, and quiet, and do whatever you say. You want to strip away everything about me you don’t like and re-mold me into some perfect, plastic chess piece that moves however you want. And never feels anything.”

“No, that's not true, I-” Vlad stopped him, shaking his head, “No.” He sounded defeated, even if the battle was against himself. “I’m - I’m sorry, Adrian. I don’t want that. I don’t. I shouldn’t have- pushed you so much. I see that now. But I’m sorry. I am.” The tears came back again and he sort of collapsed into a dining chair, like his legs had given out. Adrian was shocked to see his father crying. Truly, deeply crying. Head buried in his hands, hung low. His broad back shaking slightly with sobs. But Adrian reminded himself of who his father was, what he was like. How he could get anyone to believe what he said, love him again, and then be back to his terrible self in less than a week. 

“...I think it might be too late for that. I’ve heard that before from you. And you don’t change... You use it against me. You say, ‘oh, Adrian, I’m so sorry, I’ll be better. I promise.’ And then we wind up back here, every time… but maybe this time I just won’t hear it. Maybe you’ve pushed me too far. I think… maybe you’ve finally lost me for good this time.” The last phrase was so small, he could barely say it, but he didn’t know what else to do. He didn't want to keep repeating this process over and over. Vlad lifted his head at that and stood up, coming towards him.

“No! No, no, no,” he insisted, eyebrows knitted together, expression almost desperate, “Adrian, please-  _ I’m sorry. I will change. _ ” He emphasized the words, sighing into them. His hands were on Adrian’s shoulders again, like he was trying to keep Adrian from running off. 

“...you apologize and nothing changes.” He looked down, tears falling onto the shiny marble floor. 

“ _ I’ll change! _ Right now. Adrian,” Vlad tilted his chin up, “I don’t want you to hate me. I don’t want you to be miserable. I - oh, my boy. My boy,” he cried, stroking Adrian’s pale, wet cheeks. He wiped the tears from under his eyes. “I’m a horrible parent, aren’t I? I must be, to make you feel this way. To make you do all this. Adrian,” he couldn’t stop crying, biting his lip to try and prevent sobbing anymore. “I see that now. Okay? I see. How bad I’ve been to you. I thought it was- I didn’t- I didn’t know you felt this way. I  _ don’t want you _ to feel this way.  _ Never.  _ Listen to me, please. Look at me,” he tipped his face up again, “Do whatever makes you happy. Okay? You do -do whatever it is that will make you happy. I’ll support you, I promise. You can be with that boy, or, whoever. You can be gay, or bisexual- or whatever it is you want. Whatever makes you happy. Alright? I don’t want you to be depressed. Do what you want.”

Adrian looked up at him, a glimmer of hope in his golden eyes. Vlad continued.

“You can date him if you want. This boy, Trevor. I mean it. I don’t care anymore, I don’t want to lose you. If you want to, then, okay, just go ahead.”

“Even out in the public?” Adrian raised his eyebrows, astonished to hear the words come out of this father’s mouth. Vlad nodded. 

“Even out in the public. Yes. I don’t care about the company, we’ll- we’ll just deal with it. I’ll tell them to… mind their own business. And The Order, well,” he sighed, dreading that, “oh well. I’ll deal with it. You don’t have to join, either. I promise I’ll stop asking you to join, okay? I've officially given up on that. And I don’t care about them more than you. It’s not true. I care about you more than them. Really. I suppose I haven’t been acting that way recently, but- fuck. I messed up here. I know that. But I don’t want to be the cause of your unhappiness, son. _Ruining your life_ ,” his voice broke at that, “Jesus. That’s not- That’s not what I want at all. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you were so unhappy.”

Adrian thought about it for a long while, considering it. Then, he took a deep breath. There was a man, there, he knew there was. A man beneath the monster. He had known that man, years and years ago. Before the ridiculous wealth, before he was a household name. Before he had lost himself in the power and the fame, the pressure and the publicity. And a tiny, tiny spark of hope inside him blossomed, and he couldn't put it out because he didn’t want to. If there was a chance, a possibility of having a real relationship again, having a real family, then he wanted to try. He knew he’d regret it if he said no. 

“Do you mean it?” He wondered aloud. Vlad let out a nervous breath, standing straighter.

“Yes, yes! Please, son, you have my blessing…” he sniffled, wiping at his face, “You can do what you want to do. Just- _ please _ be happy. I don’t care anymore. You can go to Paris for the modeling job. You can smoke. You can sleep with men. I don’t care… I never wanted to ruin your life, Adrian. I never-” his voice broke, and he couldn’t finish because another sob wracked through him, tears running down his face in heavy rivulets. 

“Okay. _Okay_ , hey,” Adrian soothed, feeling a bit guilty for making him cry so much. And he could tell that his father was actually, truly, deeply upset with himself. Vlad never cried. Or not in front of him, at least, probably never in front of anyone. Adrian hugged him for a moment, which seemed to make his father relax a little. 

“And you can take your art classes, okay? I mean, I’d like it if you’d take some computer classes, but-  _ you don’t have to! _ ” He stopped himself, “Okay? Do whatever you want. Don’t be miserable. Don’t be depressed because of me. That’s ridiculous. That's crazy. Obviously this means a lot to you. I’ll pay for your drawing classes and all that if you want them.”

“Okay.” Adrian’s hope was building, faith increasing more and more.

“You can do- whatever it is you want to do. I’ll just deal with it. If you want to take time off of school, that’s okay, just tell me. If you need to. Let me know what you want to do.”

“What?”

“What will make you happy?” He grabbed a linen tablecloth and wiped off his tears, “Tell me. I’ll do it for you.” Adrian tilted his head, finding it all a little hard to believe. But he looked over. His mother was there, blue eyes glassy, her hand held to her mouth, finding this all very hard to watch. She was a witness. He couldn’t just say things with no backup. Lisa would hold him to it.

“Really?” 

“Yes,” Vlad exhaled shakily, sitting down in his chair, “I’ve really failed you. I didn’t know how much I’ve failed you…” he looked up at Lisa, guilt racking through him, “You know, when we had you, I was terrified. I didn’t know what to do with a child, I had never even considered having one. But Lisa just got pregnant and we had you, and I thought,  _ Jesus _ , I hope I don’t mess this up,” his words sounded so heavy and deep, so pained. Like he was telling a secret he had been keeping in for a long time. Adrian sat next to him at the table.

“I didn’t want to mess things up. Because I  _ hated  _ my father. I fucking hated him. Every time he beat me and screamed at me I would just fantasize about  _ murdering him _ ,” Adrian knew his grandfather died of cancer, but he didn’t doubt at all that his father was serious about that, "And I - I thought I was a lot better than him. I’ve never hit you, I’ve barely even yelled at you, but- I suppose it doesn’t matter that much, if you say I’m ruining your life. God. Hurting you was never my intention. I just wanted to set you on the right path. Please believe me. I pushed you because I thought- I thought it would be good for you. You’re so smart, you’re so talented and hardworking. I thought it would be good for you. I’ve seen so many billionaires let their children do whatever they want, and they end up on drugs, partying like crazy, getting in trouble. All they ever do is spend money. I wanted you to be more like me. Yes, I did... I wanted to give you a clear path in life. Goals and- something to accomplish and keep you from losing yourself. Because so many rich kids just _ waste  _ their life and become spoiled, incompetent brats. I didn’t want you to be like that. So I thought, you know, these rules and this structure, that it would help you. It would give you some order and set you on the right path. But- It pains me so much to hear that you’re so unhappy. That I made you depressed and… gave you ulcers from stress. _Argh_... why didn't you tell me that? I didn't know that. That’s terrible, Adrian, that makes me feel so bad. I- I don’t want to make you miserable anymore. I want you to be happy. I’ll help you, whatever you want. I promise. And I don’t want to lose you, never. I do love you, Adrian. I do care about you. But I just- apparently I’m going about this all wrong. I must be, for you to say those things to me. You wouldn't say those things if you didn’t feel that way... Tell me what I need to do to fix this. What I need to do to make this better.” He placated, reaching out and touching his son's shoulder affectionately.

“Okay,” Adrian sighed, trying to compose himself. He thought about it. “You mean it?”

“Yes! Yes, I mean it. What is it that you want? What’s going to make you happy?” He smiled painfully, touching Adrian’s cheek.

“I want a totally different life.” He was honest. What was the point in lying?

“Oh, honey,” Lisa sighed, shaking her head. She was dabbing her eyes, “I’m sorry.”

“What do you want?” Vlad repeated. 

“I want to go to France this summer. I want to do the modeling thing. At least try it. And practice my art. I don’t want to work for the company this summer. At all. Zero. And I want my freedom when I’m there. Maybe my friends can come with me. I want to travel without work or responsibilities.”

“Okay,” Vlad answered.

“Really?” Adrian inclined his head, eyes still on his father, finding this all hard to believe. But he wanted to believe it. 

“Yes.” Vlad just stared at him, waiting to hear what else he wanted.

“Alright. I want you to change the way you act with me. If you want to be a part of my life, you have to actually be a part of my life. You have to care. And you have to show up. Unless you’re dying or the world is actually ending, you have to show up. To my concerts. And my art shows. Graduation. Anything that’s really important to me.” Vlad nodded passionately.

“I will. I will. I’ll be there. Even if I disappoint people, I’ll do it.” Adrian pursed his lips.

“And not just that, you have to answer me. I understand a few days of not talking to me, but a week? Two weeks, without answering me? A month? What kind of Dad does that? What the fuck is wrong with you?” He put it all out there, all his thoughts. His feelings. Vlad cringed at that question.

“Fuck. I- I’m sorry. I’ve been neglecting you, I know that. I’ve been focusing more on work than on you. And you, too,” he looked up at Lisa, “It’s not good, I know that. I’ll start responding, okay?”

“You have to talk to me for this to work. And not about business. I don’t want to talk about business. It’s your company, but it’s not mine. I’m glad you have CTC, and it’s so successful, and everything, but - I’ve been hearing about it for most of my life. It’s not that interesting to me or anything. I want to talk about other things. Like normal people. About life. And not just so you can dole out rules and advice. You need to ask me questions like ‘How are you?’ and actually make an effort to care about the answer. Most of the time it feels like you just want to get me to talk so you can tell me what you want me to do. Stop bossing me around constantly. You  _ pick out my outfits for me!  _ I’m almost twenty years old! And you tell me what to do, and then you just go silent, for weeks. Do you ever even think about what  _ I’m feeling _ when you do that? Do you ever think about what I’m feeling  _ at all? _ If you want someone to love you, and not hate you, you have to care about them.  _ Actually  _ care about them. And what they think. And what they feel. Not just what you feel.” Vlad cringed again. He gulped, shoulders tense, eyes closed. But he nodded.

“Okay. I’ll change, I promise, Adrian.”

“Alright.”

“If you want mom and me to keep liking you you have to step away from work and from The Order sometimes to be with us. To spend time with us, and not just being in the same room answering emails. Quality time. CTC isn’t everything. The Order isn’t everything.  _ Is it? _ ”

“Of course not.” He answered that question like it was so simple, but it wasn’t. 

“That’s what it feels like sometimes. Look, Dad, you have billions and billions and billions of dollars. You are the third richest person in the entire world. You have _ all the money _ you could  _ ever  _ want. You have more money than you could ever spend. You’re extremely important. So  _ stop working so hard! _ Delegate things. And not to me. Get more assistants or something. Get more interns. People you can trust. Vet them. Free up your time so mom and I aren’t left battling for scraps of your attention. She doesn’t say it that much because she’s so nice. And she’s so forgiving with you, I don’t know why, I guess because she’s in love with you. But you know you treat her badly, too. And she gets really lonely! She told me,” Lisa pursed her lips, and looked between them, not denying it, “She feels like you care more about CTC and The Order than her. You just leave her alone and go on business trips for days or weeks. All she has is the dogs for company because I’m at school. Stop doing that! Just tell whoever it is, hey- ‘I stayed for a couple of days, now I need to go back to my family. I have to spend time with my wife. Call me on Monday.’ Just tell them no. You’re the boss, anyway! You own the fucking company. Tell them to wait a few days.” 

“Okay. I'll do that.”

“You don’t want to lose us, do you?” Adrian asked, and it was a valid question given how little time he usually spent with them. Fear and disgust flashed in Vlad’s eyes. 

“ _No! Of course not._ Oh God, of course, I don’t. Adrian,” he wheezed a little, “I didn’t know things were this bad.” 

“That’s ‘cause you’re not here most of the time. And when you’re here you’re in your office, or you’re on a call, or your mind is very obviously on something else. What’s the point of becoming so rich and powerful if you can’t even relax and enjoy anything? You might as well be broke. When do you ever take a vacation? When do you ever just sit and relax, kick back with a beer, or go on a walk? And you end up making me live that way too, you did. No fun. Just work, just,” he gesticulated, “being on the computer, managing things, never relaxing. What kind of life is that? It’s not enjoyable. I know that! You made me live that way for God knows how long. You have all the power in the world, you can do whatever you want, so why do you keep working yourself this hard? Why do you keep your phone glued to your hand like you’d die without answering an email?” Adrian had a lot of questions for his father that he had never asked before. He’d been too afraid. The questions were starting to get under Vlad’s skin, he could tell.

“Alright! You’re right, Adrian. You are. I’ll change _. Okay? _ I’ll change.” He very clearly wanted the discussion to be over with.

“You say that, but-”

“Right now! I mean it. I’ll throw my phone in the garbage. I don’t care about work more than you!” He looked over at his beautiful wife, feeling regret overcome him, “I have, at times, in the past, but I don’t want that. Of course I don’t. I want things to be good again. I want us to be close again. A happy family. Like we used to be. We can spend the whole weekend together- starting now. No business, no meetings, no emails. I’ll call Megan right now and tell her I’m completely unavailable the whole weekend, no emails, no phone calls, nothing. Nothing for work, nothing for The Order, just you two. Whatever you want.”

“What?” Lisa asked. 

“We can do whatever you want. Whatever makes you happy. Adrian, son-” he grabbed his shoulder again, “I love you. I know I haven’t shown that lately. Either of you. I haven’t done it well. I’ve been terrible. Let me make it up to you. We can go anywhere. Do you want to go to the country? Or to Paris? I know you love Paris so much. We can fly to Paris today. Right now. In my plane. We can spend the weekend at the Ritz. You can come with us,” he looked at Lisa.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Adrian confirmed. It was a huge change.

“Do what?”

“Go back to being close with me? Because I’m going to hold you to it. That includes being supportive. And accepting.”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine with all of it…” 

“Well, okay. Good.” Adrian wanted to try. If they had a chance to be a family again he didn't want to give that up. But he told himself that if his father messed up again after this, if he started acting terribly again, that was the end. He would cut off contact. But a part of him really wanted to give his father another chance. He wanted it to work. And it seemed like what he had said really struck a nerve in Vlad. Like he really, truly cared. 

“So, what do you want to do? Let’s get out of the house, hm? Go somewhere. Where do you wanna go?” 

“Paris would be fun.” He shrugged. He hadn’t expected this change of events. Not at all. He expected getting send to his room and grounded for a week or getting kicked out of the house. Not a vacation.

“Alright. I’ll call Meagan to tell her I’m unavailable. Lisa, do you want to come with us?” He looked over at his wife across the table.

“Yes. Let’s all go,” she came over to Vlad and sat on his lap, running her fingers through his hair, straightening it out, “We can have some time together as a family. Get past this. I think it’s a good idea. And Adrian, we are absolutely going to support you. Please don't worry about that. We love you and we'll support you.” 

“Absolutely,” Vlad smiled a little, kissing her on the cheek.

“Okay... We’re going now? What about my papers?” 

“You can do them on the plane ride. I have wifi. Or, don’t do them, whatever you want, Adrian.” He raised his hand like he was taking the pressure off. Adrian supposed he was. It was nice, but he just hoped it would last. 

“I’ll do them. It’s a long flight.”

“You haven’t been on my new plane yet. You’ll love it. Okay, let’s get packed then. I’ll have Megan reserve a suite at the Ritz for us. We’ll do whatever you want. We can walk down the Trocadero. You can tell us all about this boy. We can play poker. And smoke. And Lisa can yell at us for it. Whatever you like.” He tried to lighten the tension and Lisa smacked him a bit.  Adrian laughed a little and smiled, finally. Dracula’s expression warmed at the sight of his son’s smile, little crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes. 

“I’m going to pack, I’ll be ready soon,” Lisa said as she got off of Vlad’s lap and headed upstairs. Adrian watched her go and stood up as well.

“I guess,” he faltered, “I guess I’ll get packing, too. How long are we going to be gone?”

“Just a couple of days. And Adrian,” he stopped him before he could walk off too far, getting him to turn around, “I mean what I said. Everything. I want you to know that.”

Adrian looked up into his father’s dark eyes, surprised to such an earnest expression. Those eyes were usually so guarded, so far away it was disconcerting. But at that moment his gaze was pure, penetrating. Heartfelt. It was like a vail had been lifted. Adrian blinked a few times, too stunned by the strangeness of it all. He was starting to believe things really were changing.

“I love you, son.” Vlad put a hand on his golden head and stroked his hair affectionately for a moment. He felt like a little boy again. Idly, Adrian remembered that when he was a young child, that was when he was the most liberated. Free of worry and consternation. 

He wanted to live that way again.

“I love you, too. Please stop being an asshole.”

Dracula chuckled richly.

“Okay. I promise.”

* * *

Paris was lovely. It was one of Adrian’s favorite cities. And with his father’s checkbook leading the way, the experience was full of plush comforts and free of any worries at all. Money didn’t buy happiness, Adrian knew that, but it could provide stability. Ease of mind.

The next day he was seated next to his parents at Les Univers de L'Espadon, having a late breakfast in the idyllic glass-roofed winter garden restaurant. It was a morning as usual as any other. His father read the papers, in French and English both. His mother leisurely sipped her café au lait, reading some articles and checking her phone. On the table - a silver tray with assorted breads and croissants, butter and jam, boiled eggs, yogurt with berries, coffee, cream, fresh juice. In the air - light jazz music and the movement of white-gloved staff, the clink of ice in a crystal glass. It was an overcast day in Paris, like many others. Cool and grey. But Adrian felt different. Very different. He knew why and yet it was hard to place his emotions. He supposed he was mostly just shocked. He found it incomprehensible that things would really change the way his father said they would. And that they had actually gotten past the fight and not ripped the family apart in the process.

He sipped his latte, thinking everything through. And yet thinking about very little at all. Wondering what his life was going to be from there on out, how things would change. How he would change. How his father would change. It was a lot to take in. And yet, despite everything, there was a pleasant stillness in his mind, an idle calmness that spread through his body. Adrian wasn’t used to it. He felt… comfortable. Relaxed. His jaw wasn’t tight, the muscles in his neck didn’t ache. He wasn’t even tired, a rare feeling for him when so often he would stay up late studying and rise early to attend his classes. 

The buzz in his skull was absent. That feeling of rumination and impending dread. Wondering what there was to do, what he hadn’t done yet, what would happen if he didn’t get it all done. Those feelings were all gone. And then there was just blissful stillness. Thoughtless silence. Adrian sighed at the wonderful feeling. It was almost like the end of an orgasm. When everything fades away.

“Are you alright?” Dracula asked, watching his son lean his head back and let out a slow exhale, curly blonde hair falling back over the chair. Adrian turned to look at him, his dark hair and dark eyes and dark mustache. His hand wrapped around a black coffee with one cube of sugar. Halfway through the New York Times. Finished with Le Monde. Everything was the same, and yet everything was different.

“I feel great. I actually slept last night… And I’m not stressed at all. It's weird. I never feel this relaxed. It is strange. I guess it’s like having a weight lifted off my shoulders.” 

_ I said everything I wanted to _ say.

“That’s good. I’m so glad you’re feeling better,” Lisa smiled, “last night was very stressful,” she huffed, “I’m glad we can put it behind us.” Vlad said nothing but he looked back to his son, and a small smile turned the corners of his lips upwards. 

“Can I have my phone back, Dad? I want to let my friends know that I’m here for the weekend.”

“Ah, of course. I forgot.” He pulled it out of his briefcase. But as he was about to hand it over, he hesitated. “I should tell you, there-” a sigh, “there were some nasty comments on there. When I looked at it the other day. Some Instagram messages, that sort of thing. Do you want me to delete them before I give it back to you?”

“Nasty comments?” Adrian scowled.

“That’s terrible. Just ignore them, Adrian," Lisa insited, "Don’t worry about that.”

“You mean homophobic stuff?” He had forgotten about the tabloids for a moment.

“Well, yes, and you- you seem so relaxed now and you seem to be feeling better. I’d hate for you to get upset again over some hateful comments online.” He seemed genuinely concerned. Adrian wondered how bad it was.

“Didn’t you delete my Instagram app and my other socials?”

“Yes, I did. I assumed you would re-download them. That’s why I’m warning you.” Adrian sighed, shaking his head. He didn't want to. 

“I don’t care. I’ll just go without them for a while. I just need my messages app to text my friends, that’s all I care about.”

“Okay.” He handed the phone over.

[Trevor]

Trevor (5:50 pm) Hey… so, are you grounded? Did you get in trouble?

Trevor (5:55 pm) I deleted my profiles by the way. I don’t have social media anymore..

Adrian (9:54 am) Hey, Trevor. I’m sorry I didn’t text earlier. Family drama… but I’m okay. I’ll tell you about it when I get back to Rochester. I’m actually in Paris right now. But my dad isn’t angry anymore and we worked things out. 

Trevor (9:55 am) Oh! Didn't expect that... okay good for you… why are you in paris tho

Adrian (9:56 am) Ah, family time, I guess. Getting out of New York for a while. When my dad gets upset he always takes off and goes somewhere else. To get away from everything.

Trevor (9:57 am) Alright. But you’re okay? You were really freaked out when you left

Adrian (9:58 am) Yeah I was. But I’m alright now. Everything is gonna be fine, this will all go away. I’ll be back soon. We can talk then.

Trevor (9:58 am) Ok sure. Do you guys have an apartment out there or something?

Adrian (9:59 am) No, we always stay at the Ritz. My dad loves it. 

Trevor (10:00 am) omgggg the ritz?? The actual ritz? Jesus christ you are a spoiled brat

Adrian (10:01 am) Whatever *eye roll* It’s a nice hotel

Trevor (10:01 am) hey steal some little soaps for me

Trevor (10:01 am) and stuff from the minibar

Trevor (10:02 am) and an ashtray

Adrian (10:02 am) lol what is wrong with you… 

Trevor (10:03 am) A lot. But seriously, bring me an ashtray

Trevor (10:05 am) I’m kinda worried about going to practice tomorrow. Now that this whole thing is out...now that people know about us. They were saying shit on snapchat

Adrian (10:06 am) I bet everything will be fine. It’s 2018, people should just mind their own business. But call me if you need me, okay? 

Trevor (10:07 am) Nah, it’s okay im fine, you’re right it’ll probably be ok

* * *

Later that afternoon Adrian was walking with his father through a museum with a name he didn’t remember. Lisa had gone to a cafe to meet up with a friend who was living in Paris. It was mildly awkward to be spending time alone with his father after the fight but he had little else to say. He had spoken his mind, laid it all on the table. His father was still getting over that, he knew. Getting over the truth and Adrian's feelings about everything. And so he let him think in silence. He let the awkwardness linger. The section of the museum they were touring was mostly empty, and Adrian enjoyed the quiet. He sat down on a bench in the middle of the room and stared at a painting by an old master, appreciating the fine brushwork. He could spend hours looking at french paintings.

“It’s beautiful,” Vlad muttered, sitting down beside him quietly. His bodyguard lingered in the background, always silent, always alert. Adrian just ignored them both, choosing instead to imagine what it would take to create such a masterpiece, wondering how long it would take.

“Adrian,” his father spoke up after a long silence, playing with the end of his Gucci jacquard print scarf, “I was thinking about what you said yesterday about- this boy, er, young man, Trevor. About how- I don’t know anything about him. I was judging him without ever even giving him a chance.” Adrian looked over. It was odd to see his father in normal clothing. A dark grey blazer and a scarf, a pair of casual black suede loafers. He seemed out of character when he wasn’t in a suit. 

“Mhmm,” Adrian murmured.

“Well, you’re right. I was being an asshole. I shouldn’t just assume things like that... Apparently, you really like this young man. There must be a reason.”

“There are several reasons.”

Vlad looked at him briefly and looked away, trying to be nice but apparently finding the direct eye contact too uncomfortable. Adrian knew he found the whole thing uncomfortable.

“Well,” he paused, turning back to the painting, “Tell me about him.”

“He’s not really serious with me or anything. We just started seeing each other. I mean, I don’t think he would want you knowing a lot about him or anything. But he’s - he’s fun. He’s a lot of fun. And he’s serious sometimes, too. Really witty. Makes jokes. And he’s… very resilient. I like that about him.”

“Resilient?”

“Yeah, he can get through so much. He’s the kind of guy who can get knocked down seven times and stand up eight. He doesn’t give up about things he cares about. And he’s kinda stubborn, but that’s just because he cares so much. About different things.”

“Hm,” Vlad nodded, lips pursed, “that’s good.”

“And he does care about his classes, by the way, he just doesn’t show it like I do. You know most people consider getting a ‘B’ in a class an achievement. Especially in the Ivy League. Or just passing. Our classes are really difficult.”

“Oh, yes. I know,” His voice was small, almost distant, “And, you’re- planning to keep seeing him, I take it. You’re going to date him?” He almost whispered the question. Adrian wondered if he was trying to be polite or if he just didn’t want his bodyguard to hear that.

“Maybe. We’ll see where it goes.”

“Okay.”

“I haven’t planned far in advance. I didn’t even think any of this would happen. I mean, being with him, seeing him. I didn’t think it would happen between us.” Dracula turned at that, looking over his son's fair profile. 

“Why did you think it wouldn’t happen?” He wondered. Adrian’s eyes lost focus.

“Because we both feel so much pressure to be straight. And we’re both bisexual, so we figure we can just kind of make do dating women only. But it’s hard. When so many people think it’s so disturbing for two guys to be together. He’s very sensitive about it. Doesn’t want people to know. He would never have kissed me if he knew people were taking pictures of us. He was just really drunk,” Adrian muttered under his breath, “We probably wouldn’t have done anything if we knew people were going to be so crazy about this. And put it in the fucking tabloids. I thought your head was going to explode or something, you were so angry.”

Dracula sighed heavily. 

“I’m sorry, Adrian. This is all very, very new to me... People in my generation, they didn’t- they didn’t do this. Have a girlfriend and then have a boyfriend. Go back and forth like that. And no one ever said that they were ‘bisexual’ at all. I never heard that term growing up. People barely ever even said gay or lesbian or anything. No one really talked about it. If someone was gay they would usually just keep it to themselves. There wasn’t this whole thing of pride and accepting everything. They were very different times. And - I don’t want you to think I’m not supportive. I’ll be supportive. I promise. I will work on it. And I won’t - get mad about it anymore. Really. It just takes me a little bit to - adjust, you know? It’s very... modern.” Adrian shook his head, an annoyed expression on his face.

“It’s not modern. Bisexuality is not modern. You’re totally wrong about that.”

“What?” Vlad whispered. A couple passed by them and Adrian waited until they left.

“It’s ancient history. Roman men were free to be bisexual, thousands of years ago. Greeks, too. Both Alexander the Great and Emperor Hadrian had both female wives and male lovers, which was totally acceptable then. There were still moral and social rules about what was acceptable, and who is acceptable to be with, but it wasn’t based on the sex of the person. It was based on other things, like age and status. And in ancient Japan men would take male lovers all the time. Other countries as well. Thousands and thousands of years ago. It’s not new. Not at all.”

A pause.

“I didn’t really know about that.” 

“Well, I do know some things you don’t know,” Adrian looked over at him, “you can start by googling ‘History of Bisexuality’ and reading the articles that pop up. Maybe you should educate yourself a little bit.” He wasn’t trying to be rude about it, but he meant it. And he wasn’t afraid to tell him things like that anymore. Vlad blinked, and then he nodded. 

“Okay… I’ll do that.”

“Good.”

* * *

  
A day later and Adrian was back in his apartment in Rochester. He had landed in the early evening. Everything had gone well in Paris, his father was coming around, mellowing out. They had patched things up decently, but Adrian had been honest about his desire for some distance. He needed time on his own. Vlad accepted, and so he went back to his sprawling penthouse, calmer than he had been in a very long time. 

Adrian unpacked, turned on his CTC player, and picked out his favorite Chet Baker album. It went along perfectly with the pouring rain outside. He had left all the blinds up, enjoying the way rain streamed in rivulets down the floor-to-ceiling windows. Then he took out a package of fresh ravioli, boiled some water, and selected a bottle of Pinot Grigio from the wine fridge. He was pouring himself a glass when he heard a knock on the door. A scowl came over his face immediately. He hadn’t been expecting anyone. 

When he opened the door he found Trevor standing beside his bodyguard, soaking wet and dripping all over the tile floor. A strange silence passed as Adrian met his troubled gaze.

“Hey.”

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the wait! Anyway, please review! :) Thank you


	24. Learning To Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor chooses to trust in Adrian. Sypha has news.
> 
> This chapter is a birthday present to my friend, cricketsong1985! <3

Hippie groups still active in Topanga, California (outside of L.A.) [ https://www.babyboomster.com/hippie-hideaways-los-angeles/ ](https://www.babyboomster.com/hippie-hideaways-los-angeles/)

* * *

“Trevor. Hey. _Are you okay?_ You’re all wet. Here, come in,” he noticed the way Trevor's dark hair stuck to his face, the way his shirt was plastered to his body in strange folds. Concern immediately swept over his pale features and he locked the door behind him. “What’s going on?”

“I’m- I walked here,” Trevor said, like it wasn't obvious, dripping all over Adrian’s nice tiled floors. 

“ _I can see that!_ Wha- why did you walk here? Are you okay?”

Trevor looked up and Adrian could see it all at once, the pain in his clear blue eyes, clear as crystal. 

“Adrian, I… I really messed up. I really did. This whole thing- this is just- _fuck_ ,” he cursed loudly, pushing wet bangs from his forehead. “This turned out to be like the biggest mistake of my life. And it’s- it’s too late now, and I don’t know what to do. I’m so fucked. I am _so fucked. God._ ” His voice broke, like he was going to cry. Adrian touched his shoulder and recoiled when he felt how cold he was.

“Hey, calm down, okay? Try to calm down, come in here. You can’t keep that on, or you’ll freeze to death. Take it off,” he instructed, so Trevor pulled off the wet sweatshirt angrily and sat down on an end table. He was obviously not thinking, just feeling, and Adrian saw that. He took his sopping wet sweatshirt to the laundry room and came back with a big fluffy towel, wrapping Trevor in it and trying to dry off his cold, wet hair. Trevor quickly pulled the towel down, stopping him. He obviously didn’t care that he was wet and freezing. His expression seemed disturbed, almost panicked.

“Stop it. _Adrian,_ ” Trevor’s voice cracked, “You don’t understand. Everything’s so fucked up now. You have no idea. I,” he started drifting off, and the fearful look in his eyes worried Adrian. He kept drying Trevor off anyway, wrapping the towel around him. Trying to comfort him. He didn’t understand what Trevor was talking about.

“Calm down. Deep breath... now tell me. What happened, Trevor?” 

He huffed angrily at that question.

“My team- they won’t talk to me. They won’t even look at me, they just talk to themselves and whisper about me behind my back. They walk around me and ignore me if I try to talk to them. They took me off the group chat! When I came back into the locker room today someone wrote ‘fag bitch’ on my locker,” he laughed, because it was something he thought could only happen in a movie. Adrian’s expression became even more concerned.

“Oh, Trevor, I’m so sorry,” he instinctively came closer and ran a hand through Trevor’s hair. “They’re assholes.” 

“They’re forcing me off the team,” he kept laughing, humorlessly, talking more and more quickly, “They’re fucking forcing me off the team. I knew it. I knew this would happen. Jesus. _Why did I do this?!_ _I’m a fucking idiot!_ What was I thinking!” He raised his voice into something between a growl and a scream. Adrian pulled him close, holding his head in his hands.

“Hey, hey. You’re not an idiot. Trevor, you’re not. They’re homophobic assholes. You didn't do anything wrong.”

“You don’t understand, I’ve ruined _everything,_ ” he choked out, like he was about to sob, leaning forward and clawing at his scalp with short nails. 

“What was I thinking?” He lamented, beating himself up. Adrian sighed and pulled away. Then he picked the towel off the floor and wrapped it back around Trevor again, trying to warm up the stubborn man-boy. 

“Trevor, you’ll be okay. Hey, look at me,” he insisted, tipping Trevor’s chin up to look at him, “You’ll be okay. No matter what. Their opinions won’t ruin your life. Promise. You can just quit. You don’t have to be on that stupid team. Get away from them. Tell them to fuck off.”

Trevor looked at him like he was from another planet.

“Don’t you understand? If I quit, I’ll lose my scholarship,” he exhaled, out of breath and panicked, “And if I stay on, I have to go through this bullshit every day and until I want to kill myself. They’ve turned everyone against me. I don’t even have friends now. None of them will talk to me. And I can’t yell at them or beat them up because if I do that then the coach will have an actual reason to force me off! He’ll just kick me off. _Jesus!_ ” Adrian grabbed his strong hands, holding them in his own.

“Listen to me,” he insisted, in a soothing tone, “It will be okay. Trevor, you can quit. Now. Today. You can call the coach and tell him ‘fuck you, and the entire team. You’re all homophobic pieces of shit and fake friends. Bye.’” Trevor shook his head with a scowl, fear in his eyes.

“You don’t understand- without my scholarship, I can’t go to college. They’ll _kick me out of school!_ I won’t- I’ll be _homeless_ again!” He was truly panicked, Adrian could tell.

“No, no. No. Come on. You won’t be homeless. And you won’t get kicked out of college-” he started, but Trevor cut in too quickly, gesticulating angrily.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m not going to be able to pay for tuition working at Taco Bell part-time. I have no loans, no parents. All I have are two shitty options and either one of them-” Adrian put a finger over his mouth to shush him.

“Trevor, close your beautiful loudmouth and listen to me,” he sat next to Trevor on the end table, rubbing the towel through his shaggy brown hair. He kissed Trevor’s stubby chiseled jaw.

“You don’t need the scholarship. I’ll pay your tuition.”

Trevor looked at him for a moment and exhaled, taken aback, but then he shook his head 'no'.

“Thanks, but I don’t want Dracula fucking Tepes paying for my education-”

“Shut up and listen to me. I’ll pay for it. I have investments. I’m invested in some businesses. And I make a little money on my own."

"What?"

"I set it up so if my dad ever kicked me out for good I would have some money to support myself. I made money with my Amazon stock and a few other ones. Uber. I thought ahead so in case my father ever decided to cut me off I wouldn’t become homeless myself. I have money. More than enough.” Trevor breathed a sigh of relief at that, thinking it through. He didn’t want to do it, he didn’t want to take money from Adrian, but he had very few options left and they were all terrible. Trevor was backed into a corner, and money was the only way out of it.

“How much money do you have?” Trevor asked finally, looking at him. 

“Of my own?”

Trevor nodded and Adrian answered quickly, “a few million.”

“ _Jesus fucking Christ!_ ” The brunette swore, jumping off the table and looking at him in disbelief. Adrian rolled his eyes a little.

“Nope. Not him. Just me. I don’t think Jesus knows about stocks.” He smirked and Trevor laughed, overwhelmed and out of breath. He ran a hand through his short hair.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes. You can look at my Chase account if you don’t believe me.”

“I…” Trevor glanced out the window at the pouring rain, and then looked down at his soaked pants and tennis shoes. He briefly remembered what it was like to live outside in the snow and the rain. Freezing to the bone, going hungry. _I can’t be homeless again. I can’t risk it. And if he’s serious… I have to do it. I just have to._

“Trevor, this is a no-brainer. We can get it done tonight, or tomorrow, you can be free of this. You won’t have to worry about it at all. Ever again. Any of it. Look at me,” Adrian told him, and he did, “now nod your head and say yes.”

He stepped towards the blonde, his mouth suddenly dry. He was speechless. 

_I have to say something. He's serious._ With a slightly squishy _plop_ , he sat back down on the modern end table.

“Adrian... You’re an amazing friend to even offer this for me, no matter how much money you have. You’re fucking amazing. I- wow- I can’t believe I’m saying this but- yes. Okay. Thank you. Thank you so much. I’ll apply for as many need-based scholarships as I can find, but the rest- you’ll pay it? _Really?_ ” He knew it would be going into the hundreds of thousands of dollars. That was an insane amount of money to drop so quickly, but he supposed to a billionaire's son, it wasn't so much.

Adrian smiled, relieved that Trevor wasn’t being so stubborn anymore.

“Yes, of course. Don’t even mention it. And you don’t need to apply for those need-based scholarships. Leave those for people who don’t have rich friends.” Trevor could hardly believe the kindness being shown to him. It shocked him. He tried to sort it all out in his own head.

“I’ll try to pay you back, of course, Adrian. As soon as I have a real job. I promise. I’ll write it all down, all of the amounts- in an Excel sheet or something and make plans for how to pay you back after I graduate. In installments.” Adrian laughed a little and ran a hand through his damp hair, caressing him.

“No,” he stopped that discussion, “no, no. Trevor, you won an Adrian Tepes scholarship. All-inclusive. Textbooks, courses, fees, everything. You’re not allowed to pay me back. It’s a condition of the scholarship. And I’ll just put all the money in the school account, like, in the payment system. So even if we would stop talking or something you’d still have the money. No strings attached.”

Trevor didn’t even know what to say. He sat facing him and blinked silently, stupefied by kindness. After a while, Adrian leaned in and kissed his parted lips. Trevor kissed him for a moment and then he blinked back to reality. 

“...Thank you,” he sighed, almost dizzy from it all. He couldn’t believe it was real. 

“You’re welcome,” he leaned forward and pressed another sweet kiss to Trevor’s lips. Trevor closed his eyes briefly and sunk into the kiss, feeling Adrian’s soft lips against his own, humming in approval, but then he remembered something and pulled back. 

“Wait, Adrian. That’s not my only problem, though. I need to figure out what to do about my fucking roommate. Sorry,” he apologized for ruining the kiss, “I just thought about that. I forgot to tell you. I didn’t want to bother you with it when you were in Paris.”

“Tom? Oh, heard about us?”

“Everyone heard about us. The whole school. He saw the pictures. Of course. Heard all the rumors.” It seemed almost everyone was talking about them. Adrian sighed.

“Okay. What is he doing?”

“Nothing. Technically. Silent treatment. He won’t talk to me at all. Zip, zilch. He broke up with his fucking girlfriend and he takes online classes so he’s in the room all the time. _All the time._ And he brings his friends into the room and he whispers about me to them and then they alllook at me, cringing - in disgust!” Adrian grimaced.

“What the fuck? What year is this?!” He groaned, put off by the whole thing, “Can’t people just mind their own fucking business and not make judgments?” It angered him how so many people in America were still so narrow-minded and judgemental about two men having sexual relations. Especially if they were bisexual.

“They’re not quiet. I could hear him once, calling me a faggot behind my back... _Fuck!_ How am I going to live there? He won’t answer me when I say anything to him. Like, if I ask him, ‘hey, did you see my headphones?’ or ‘did you use up my shampoo?’ he literally won’t even answer me. Just ignores me straight out. Or glares at me like a bitch. I don’t feel comfortable even just sitting in my room anymore. I can’t relax. He’s so mean and he’s always there now. I don’t know- I don’t know what to do, Adrian.”

“Trevor, it’s okay," he rubbed his back, "It will be alright.”

“No, it won’t! He’s homophobic, but it’s not enough to report or anything. If there was something real, like a nasty text or something, I could use that, but he doesn’t do anything that could get him in real trouble. The RA would just make us sit down and talk, and that would make it worse. He would say he hadn’t done anything wrong. There’s no proof. And I feel so fucking uncomfortable there. In my own room. I almost asked Sypha last night if I could sleep on her floor. And they won’t reassign me to a new room anyway because it’s the middle of the semester. He keeps all the lights on at night so I can’t sleep and talks on the phone till like two am. _Ugh._ How am I-”

“Trevor, Trevor, stop,” he cupped Trevor’s handsome face again in his hands. 

“Everything is going to be okay. I promise you. You don’t have to stay there. I’ll sort it all out for you. Whatever you want. I can get you an apartment, or a house. You can stay with me until you get on your feet. Until the end of the semester or… however long. You can stay here. You’re not going to be homeless, Trevor, of course not. And you don’t have to live with that douchebag, Tom.”

“What?” 

“You can stay with me for now Trevor. If you want to. I’m sure it will be better than living in that homophobic hell hole. I’ll buy all the groceries and cook for you. You can take the garbage out.” He giggled, playing with Trevor’s larger, manlier hands. Threading his fingers through them.

“Are you serious?” Trevor couldn’t believe it. He looked around the luxurious, spacious apartment fit for a movie star. “Here?”

“Well, for a couple of days at least. Until I can get you a place that’s furnished. You can always just move into an empty apartment downstairs. We have lots of empty units.”

“We?” Trevor scowled in confusion.

Adrian shrugged. “My dad owns the building."

“Of course he does,” Trevor groaned, rolling his eyes. 

“Trevor, if you don’t want to move in with me, it’s okay. I totally get that. I have plenty of money. Money is never an issue. You don’t have to live here. We can go to an apartment complex tomorrow and I can sign a lease for you in my name. Somewhere nice… granite countertops, a gym. And I can furnish it for you and pay all the bills. You don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll get you a car if you need one to get to school.”

“I can't drive. Jesus! Are you sure? You're serious?" It seemed too good to be true. Trevor was used to his life being shitty. Always. That was his normal. Being orphaned, being homeless, being picked over for someone else. Getting everything taken care of for him, having things work out so smoothly, was unbelievable. He had never had such luck. 

“I am being serious. Trevor, the price most people pay for rent a month is what I pay for a pair of boots. Or a sweater. It’s nothing to me. Last month I spent like $8,000 on clothes. My money is much better spent on you, anyway. You don’t have to put up with that asshole Tom for a second more. I could buy you a nice house or a condo right now. _In cash._ No problem.” 

Trevor put his hands up, overwhelmed by it all. This wasn't how he imagined things would go. He always imagined pulling himself up by his bootstraps, scrimping and saving until he could afford an apartment of his own or a small house. It was so much at once, having it all delivered on a silver platter. It was all so peculiar. The idea that one person could have enough money in their checking account to change another person's life forever... it was astounding. 

“Adrian, stop it- you don’t have to do that,” he huffed, overwhelmed by Adrian’s generosity. “ _No way_. I couldn’t accept that. Having you pay for my schooling is already so much.”

“Okay,” he looked down, hoping that he wasn’t making Trevor feel bad about being poor, “What do you want to do?” After a few moments, Trevor took a deep breath in and looked over at the beautiful blonde man and their intertwined hands. 

“Are you _sure_ it’s okay that I stay with you for a while?” He hoped Adrian wasn't just offering while simultaneously hoping he would be rejected.

“Yes. I would-” gold eyes glittered with earnest hopefulness, “I would like that.” 

They kissed, softly at first, a gentle press of lips, and then more passionately. Adrian pulled away to try and start talking again, but Trevor was insistent, holding him tightly to his body and kissing him over and over again. His cheeks, his neck, his exposed collarbone. Laughter erupted easily and Trevor actually picked Adrian up a bit in excitement, peppering kisses on his cheeks and lips. It was the only way Trevor could think to express his affection and appreciation.

“Do you want to get your stuff?” Adrian wondered, seeing that he brought nothing with him, “Or just crash here?" 

“Ah, yeah. Sure. Shit,” he looked down, “My pants are soaking wet. And my socks, fuck! They're cold.”

“We should get you out of those,” Adrian teased gently, looking up meekly before they both started laughing again. Trevor started unlacing his shoes but Adrian stopped him.

“In the laundry room, please. You’re still dripping.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just go to the laundry room. I’ll bring you some pants - or, it’s late, do you just want pajama pants?”

“What?” 

“It’s kinda late. Do you wanna just get comfy? Get into some joggers or something like that?” Trevor realized for the first time that he would actually be spending the night with Adrian. And undoubtedly sleeping in Adrian’s big fluffy white bed. With him. The thought was both foreign and exciting.

“Uh, sure, thanks. It’ll have to be kinda stretchy, though, because I’m bigger than you.”

“I know. I have loose stuff, though,” he wandered into the bedroom while Trevor took off his shoes and socks in the laundry room, “Hey, do you wanna take a shower first? I bet you’re cold. It’ll warm you up.” Trevor considered it.

“Sure. Okay. In the guest bathroom, or-?”

“No, you can use mine, it’s nicer. It has a rainfall showerhead and heated floors.”

“Oh, wow. It pays to be rich…” he muttered, walking into Adrian’s bedroom and then into his oversized bathroom, the one he had intrusively searched some weeks ago, “It’s so fancy in here. I don’t even know how to work the controls.” The black stone and slate tiled shower was big enough to fit several people. And there was a nice bench to sit down on. Adrian chuckled a little and started the shower for him, teaching Trevor how to use it.

“Towels are there, and you can just use my soap and stuff. Do you need a razor?” 

“What for?” Trevor wondered, looking back at Adrian with a confused expression. The blonde laughed at his own stupid question. He was a bit caught off guard by having Trevor stay with him so suddenly. 

“Right. Nevermind.”

“What do you use a razor for in the shower?” 

“I shave my legs. You didn’t notice-” _when we had sex the other day?_ He thought inwardly but didn’t say aloud. 

“Oh. No, I didn’t think about it. I don’t,” he chuckled a little, “I don’t shave my legs.”

“I know. It was a dumb question,” he looked between Trevor, standing awkwardly by the shower, and the door, “I’ll just- I’ll leave some clothes for you on the bed when you’re done. Are you- are you good?”

Trevor chuckled, unzipping his wet pants and admiring the waterfall shower.

“Hah, I’m used to showering with twenty other guys in a communal bathroom, worrying that I’m gonna get toe fungus. This is,” he smiled widely, “this is heaven. I’m all set.” 

* * *

When he was showered, warm, and clothed in an oversized teal sweatshirt from Acne studios and loose track pants from Moncler, Trevor wandered back into the main living room. Adrian was standing in the kitchen, lost in thought. Trevor thought it was a beautiful sight, the blonde in a white lounging outfit, standing in his designer kitchen with a glass of white wine. Gentle rain pouring down the windows in the background. It made something in him feel very warm and relaxed.

And he was immediately blessed with a kiss and a sweet smile. Which sealed the emotion, locked it in, grounded him. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. 

“How was your shower?”

“Fantastic."

“I called Sypha,” Adrian muttered, looking down for a moment, “I told her what’s been going on. She says she’s fine with you staying with me and if you want to talk to her she’ll drop what she’s doing and come over right now.” 

“Oh,” he didn’t know what to think about that, “I’m okay. She doesn’t need to come over or anything. I’ll text her.”

“Okay. Do you want some wine? I poured you a glass.”

“Sure. Thank you.” Adrian set it out for him.

“Mhmm.”

[Sypha]

Trevor (8:59 pm) Hey sypha thanks for offering to come over but I’m fine you don’t need to

Sypha (9:00 pm) I feel bad for not knowing this stuff! Why didn’t you tell me? I would have let you sleep in my room or something

Trevor (9:01 pm) I didn’t want to bother you. It’s okay… are you sure you’re okay with me staying with Adrian though? I mean… he’s your boyfriend. I could stay at a hotel or something.

Sypha (9:02 pm) Trevor, I think it’s great. Wonderful. I have to finish this paper anyway so I’m sooo glad he can be with you right now and keep you company

Trevor (9:03 pm) I’m fine. Thanks. Good luck with your studying

He put down his cracked iPhone on the counter and reached for a glass of wine, taking a long, greedy drink.

“Easy, tiger. This is 2006 Chardonnay,” Adrian critiqued quietly, “Savor it.”

Trevor looked around, trying to think everything through. He still wasn't clear what they were going to do going forward. 

“So, I just… I don’t understand, exactly.” Adrian raised a blonde brow at him.

“Why you should savor a $200 bottle of wine?”

“No,” he huffed, but then he looked down at the elegant bottle, “It’s $200? Ugh, nevermind. That’s not what I mean.” Trevor took a seat at the bar of the island and Adrian just leaned up against it, facing him.

“What’s confusing you?” 

“So you- you have a girlfriend. Sypha. Obviously. My best friend. But, now- I’m going to stay with you. And we’re… what?” Trevor looked up, meeting gold eyes across the island. He didn’t know the answer.

“Mh,” Adrian made a noncommittal noise, “Uh, we’re - I don’t know yet. I don’t think we’ve established that, really. But we can figure it out.” He sighed slowly. “There’s no rush.”

“There’s no rush?” Trevor was genuinely confused about the whole thing.

“Sypha is genuinely, truly fine with me seeing other people. We talked about it. I asked her if she was okay with an open relationship and she said ‘yes’. It’s fine with her. Is that- is that okay with you?”

“What? Your dating life?”

“Yeah.” 

Trevor looked at him blankly for a minute, thinking about the situation. Everything still seemed like a mess, but he supposed it was a much better mess than before.

“Uh, yeah. It’s fine. No worries.”

“You can tell me it is a problem, you know, if it is,” Adrian soothed, coming around the large island to stand next to him, “I won’t be upset with you. Anything is fine.” He smiled a bit and ran a hand through Trevor’s damp hair. It smelled like his Bumble and Bumble shampoo. The thought made a small shiver of happiness run through him. 

“I don't know what I’m doing, Adrian. In life. In general. I don't have plans. And.. I’m kind of overwhelmed right now, honestly,” he sighed, staring blankly at the sparkly quartz countertop. Adrian hummed and started rubbing his strong shoulders and his neck.

“I know you are. It’s a lot of change. But,” he exhaled slowly, “there are a lot of good things too. You don’t have to worry about debt or dropping out of college. You don’t have to worry about housing or homophobic roommates. Or teammates. You can relax about that stuff. You have me. And with me, there’s no need to stress. At all. I’m not asking you to define anything that we’re doing. We can just enjoy each other’s company, okay?” He leaned back against the counter and waited for Trevor to look into his eyes. He finally nodded, relieved and confused simultaneously. 

“Okay,” he sighed, “thank you. For everything. I don’t know if I’m expressing that enough. I’m just, yeah… overwhelmed.” He took another sip of wine.

“You’re fine,” Adrian smiled, and kissed his forehead, “Everything’s gonna be okay. Just try to relax. I ordered some food and it’ll be here soon. We can just eat dinner, have some wine. Watch a movie or something. Go to sleep. I’m kinda messed up from my Paris trip, time-wise, because I didn't really sleep that much on the new plane. I’m tired, so I’ll go to sleep at some point tonight.” Trevor thought it was strange that he would intentionally be living with someone who casually said things like 'my Paris trip' and 'the new plane'. _This is gonna be interesting._

“Okay, sure. That sounds good. Food sounds,” he paused, “wonderful, actually. I haven't really eaten.” 

Their dinner arrived just in time: dumplings, Chinese broccoli, fried rice, and lo mein. 

“Should I set the table or something?” Trevor offered, feeling bad for offering nothing. Adrian unpacked the warm takeout boxes on the counter and then looked longingly over at his comfortable couch. Trevor saw where he was going.

“Wanna just eat on the couch?” He teased. That made Adrian smile.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

They set up on the coffee table. Trevor brought the wine over and Adrian turned on his TV.

“What do you wanna watch?” 

“Mm,” Trevor hummed, using a fork to eat some dumplings because he didn’t usually mess around with chopsticks, “I don’t know. Don’t usually watch TV, remember? I don’t have one. I’m sure you know all the good shows, anyway. What’s good?” The blonde bit his lip, thinking about it.

“What’s your favorite TV show?” His small cat hopped up on the couch and Trevor petted the animal for a moment, smoothing down her soft fur. 

“Well, it was House of Cards, but then Kevin Spacey turned out to be a major creep. He just got charged with sexual assault or something like that, so, not my favorite show anymore. I’d feel weird watching it now. I guess my favorite now is Mad Men.” 

“I think I’ve heard of that. Never seen it, though.” He bit into a dumpling, leaning over the end table in case he would drip.

“It’s so good! It’s about ad men in the 60s, and how office culture was back then. But it also goes into all these different themes, and-” Trevor raised his hand and cut him off.

“No spoilers. Please. I’ll watch it. Sounds good.” He smiled at Adrian before messily biting into another dumpling, juice dribbling down his stubbly chin. A small snort escaped Adrian’s mouth. It was endearing and gross at the same time. 

“You have a little- here,” he leaned in, wiping his chin a bit with a napkin, “you’re a messy eater.”

“Yeaph,” he nodded, speaking improperly through his stuffed mouth, “issa issue,” then he swallowed, “I know.” Adrian gave him a ‘look’ and he started laughing. 

“I’ll try to eat better.”

“Okay,” Adrian laughed a little to himself. “I’ll put the show on.”

With a few clicks of the remote, the first episode was underway. Large text, white on black, filled the screen: ‘Mad Men - A term coined in the late 1950’s to describe the advertising executives of Madison Avenue. They coined it.’

_Ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba- ba_

_I’ve never wanted wealth untold_

_My life has one design_

_A simple little band of gold_

_To prove that you are mine_

Trevor was instantly swept up in the show, mesmerized by the aesthetics, attitudes, and behaviors of the early sixties. He was quick to ask questions about the show and Adrian was eager to answer them. It was all very fascinating, and he was distracted from modern life for a while. But after a couple episodes, and a couple glasses of wine, he noticed Adrian was fading, his eyes getting heavy and drooping until, at last, they closed. Pink lips parted slightly under the weight of sleep. 

It gave Trevor some time to think about everything that had transpired that evening and imagine what was going to happen in the future. Trevor hadn’t actually done anything yet other than take a shower. They had only spoken about their plans, and never enacted them. A small part in him, despite everything, refused to trust that it was real. That the blonde would really cover all of his expenses, no strings attached, no matter what. Out of the kindness of his heart.

In truth, Trevor was jaded from living a life under the rich man’s boot. He had slept on grimy city sidewalks and ate leftovers at night from wealthy people’s garbage bins. Drunk people threw garbage at him. There was something buried inside of him that wanted to resist the temptation to relax and accept Adrian’s kindness. And his money. It was more than a simple distrust of the rich than of Adrian. But then he remembered again how much he distrusted the whole Tepes family. 

And when that train of thought began, it was difficult to stop. He started thinking about Dracula, and all the horrible things he had heard about him, all the horrible things he thought about him. And this was his son, falling asleep beside him. His inner demon had to ask. _Was it an act? How could it be?_

_Is it foolish to truly trust someone?_

Trevor hated that he was stuck in such a needy position. He hated that he had to either depend on others to help him, bearing the humiliation, or scrape by, just barely making it. But no one can choose their position in life, and neither could he. While Adrian slept, Trevor thought for a long time about what he should do. He let the takeout go cold and stale, and turned the volume down low on the TV. And after considering how disadvantaged he truly was, and how few choices there were, he immediately reached for the wine bottle and drank straight from it, finishing it off pretty quickly by himself.

There was really only one viable option. He knew that. He would take Adrian’s offer, and push down any and all guilt or embarrassment. _Emotions shouldn’t get in the way of my future._ With his debt cleared, and his school payments paid in full, there would be such a weight off his shoulders. Leaving his team felt like a relief, in a way. He had liked them at times, and felt a sense of camaraderie, but after he came out, all of that went away in an instant. There were no more bear hugs, no more smiles, or party invitations. Only condescending glares and the words ‘faggot bitch’ scribbled on his locker with a sharpie. It stung to remember that. It was just the day before and yet his mind was already trying to forget… how easily some people turn their head. How quickly they turn around, stab you in the back, cut you off. It made his heart clench. And it made him worry about trusting Adrian with so much. With his life, really. 

Without really thinking, he headed into the kitchen, quietly as he could, and took out a bottle of vodka from the wine fridge. He searched silently for a glass and poured himself some, drinking it down straight. It burned a little in his throat but Trevor never cared. He longed for the thoughts to dissipate, for the perfect silence to take hold, the warmth that tingled down from his shoulders to his toes. It was his only real form of self-comfort. And he knew it was bad, but he didn’t care. He preferred taking people’s critical comments over staying infinitely sober.

He tried to go back to what he was feeling before, when Adrian was awake, and when everything was so nice, so sweet. When he didn’t remember that Dracula was a terrifying douchebag and he was sleeping with his son. And that he had major trust issues which would make the relationship hard no matter how kind Adrian could be. That sweet feeling had become a bit tainted, and he didn’t know how to get rid of it, because his mind started to wonder what all this meant, why someone would help a guy they only sort of know and offer to do so much. Why he would want to be so nice to him after a long while of being passive at best or even condescending. He remembered how things were at the beginning, when he was only critical and distrusting, and Adrian so often looked at him with an expression of disapproval and morbid curiosity. _And now we’re going to, what? Sleep together? Live together? How could he possibly want me to live with him? He’s so perfect. I’m a drunk mess… I’m always such a fucking mess. How could this even work?_

A thud in the living room woke Adrian up. His cat hopping up onto the coffee table. Adrian quickly put her back on the floor so she didn’t eat the leftovers. Then he rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up a little. It was late. The rain had stopped a while ago. A heavy silence replaced it. He looked over his shoulder at Trevor, who was standing in the dimly lit kitchen, hand wrapped firmly around a glass of Grey Goose. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, licking his lips, “sorry I fell asleep. The time change kinda messed me up.” Trevor watched him smooth down tousled curls.

“It’s okay.”

“What are you doing? Having a drink?”

“...yeah.” He looked down at the vodka in his hand and finished it off. Adrian stood up, still a little bleary from sleep. He picked up some of the takeout containers and dumped them in the stainless steel garbage can in the kitchen. 

“Are you okay?” Adrian asked, looking over Trevor’s now serious expression. He sighed through his nose.

“Uh, I think so. It’s just been a really, really weird day today. And yesterday. I’m-” he faltered, “I don’t know. Trying to think it all through.” 

Adrian understood that. He had been reading from sudden change, himself.

“Definitely. This whole week has been kind of crazy. So much has changed. I didn’t even tell you what happened with my dad this weekend. That whole thing… I guess I’ll tell you tomorrow.” He ran a hand through his hair, pulling apart a knot in the blonde strands.

“Hm. Sure.”

It was obvious that Trevor’s mood had soured a bit and Adrian took a deep breath. 

“Do you want to talk about it? Just, like, get all your thoughts and feelings out? I’ll listen.” Blue met gold and Trevor considered the offer. He gave him a small smile.

“No, thanks. Not now. I don’t even know what I’m thinking. It’s all a mess inside my head. So much is going on.”

“Yeah,” Adrian nodded, rubbing his broad shoulder a bit, “It is. For both of us.”

A silence passed between them, pure and rare. It was almost comfortable. As if they both knew how much they needed it, so they left it alone. Then, suddenly, Adrian’s expression sparked, and he smiled.

“Ah, I almost forgot! Wait,” he told Trevor happily, going over to a bag on the table and rummaging through the contents.

“What?” Trevor asked.

“As requested,” Adrian almost purred, an impish smile on his handsome face, “one ashtray, stolen from the Ritz.” He handed it over and Trevor chuckled in amusement, turning it over in his hands, getting a good look at the thing. It was white porcelain, with gold detailing. A crown and lion above the name ‘THE RITZ-CARLTON PARIS’ in fancy, bolded letters. 

He hadn’t really been serious, but Adrian had done it anyway. It made them both laugh for a long while, and somehow it was exactly the thing to make Trevor know he hadn’t completely fucked up. In his messed up mind, a guy who would steal an ashtray for him from the Ritz was a guy worth staying beside. The gesture warmed Trevor’s heart. Put him at ease.

That night he slept very soundly. They both did. And in the morning, as light filled the large room, he forgot about it all for a moment. He was too distracted by the feeling of Egyptian cotton around him and the beauty of his surroundings. White gauzy fabric hanging over the huge four poster bed, catching the morning sun. Floor to ceiling windows covered with the same material. An elegant chaise lounge, a dresser, a chest. Sumptuous modern artwork on the walls. Then he turned around in bed, shifting so he could see Adrian, who was lying on his back, sleeping soundly. Birds sang their morning songs outside in the trees. It was positively blissful for Trevor. 

He moved a bit closer in the bed, enjoying such a peaceful moment. Adrian’s collarbones looked truly elegant in the morning light. As did the planes of his torso, the lines in his neck. And, of course, the halo of golden perfection around his head. Trevor silently reached a hand across and fingered a single loose curl, playing with it idly. But the level of comfort was too much, and he fell back asleep easily. When he woke for the second time, it was to the sound of an alarm. Adrian’s alarm, blaring horribly from the other end of the room. They both groaned in protest, but the blonde pulled himself up from the bed and went to turn it off. He came back and blinked over at Trevor like he had forgotten that had slept next to each other that night. He came to and offered Trevor a little smile, and then a quick kiss on the cheek. They hadn’t done anything more than kiss the previous night, but that was enough. They were both very tired from everything that had transpired. 

“Do we have class?” Trevor grumbled in confusion, a rough, low sound that Adrian enjoyed. He shook his head ‘no’ and climbed back into bed, cuddling up against Trevor who was slightly surprised at the touch. He wasn’t used to being cuddled. Adrian tucked his head under Trevor’s muscular arm and rested a hand on his broad torso.

“It’s Spring Break. We can do whatever we want,” he sighed happily, angling his head back so Trevor could see his pleasant expression, “anything at all.” Trevor moaned happily and kissed Adrian without another thought. 

“Awesome.” He pulled Adrian’s body even closer and the blonde wrapped a leg around his thigh, settling in. It was warm and sweet, and he tried to just enjoy the moment for what it was. He had secretly always wanted someone to cuddle with him in the mornings, wake up beside him. Even if he didn’t show it or mention it to anyone. There were a few more sleepy kisses and Trevor got relaxed enough to drift back into sleep, but Adrian woke him up with a question before he could.

“Do you want to move out today?”

“What?” Trevor opened his eyes again and Adrian sat up in bed, pushing back fluffy white bedding in the process.

“You want to move out of your dorm, right? Get your underwear and everything? Your laptop?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I should.” It was strange to think that he was leaving, but it had to be done. He would much rather jump into something with Adrian than be stuck in that homophobic hell hole. The thin blonde leaned forward, hair falling over his chest and brushing against Trevor’s.

“Why don’t you get it over with this morning? Just, put it out of the way, you know? I’ll help you. Maybe grab breakfast?” Trevor peered up at him. One side of his hair was glowing in golden light, and the other half was in gentle shadows. It was a pleasant sight first thing in the morning, to say the least. And very distracting.

“Sure. It won’t take very long. I don’t have much.”

“Okay. I have some bins and laundry baskets in the other room, so we can use those.”

“Sure… Oh, hey, did you ever send a doctor’s note to the professor? Because we did tell him you were sick, and that’s why you missed the presentation.” Adrian shook his head ‘no’ and got off the bed.

“I’ll get my dad to send something. He can have his doctor send a note. A fake one. Thank you, by the way. I’m sorry I missed it. Were you two okay on your own?”

“Yeah. It was fine. Should be a good grade, at least a ‘B’,” he guessed. Adrian smiled.

“Great. Okay, I’m going to take a shower first.”

“Sure.” He watched Adrian amble into the bathroom and then he reached for his phone on the nightstand. There was a message from Sypha.

[Sypha]

Sypha (8:12 am) hey!! can you and adrian meet me at the usual cafe for breakfast? I wanna hang out

Trevor (9:09 am) one sec, lemme ask

“Oh, Sypha wants to have breakfast with us,” he raised his voice so Adrian could hear him in the bathroom, “At that cafe we always go to. Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Adrian called back, “that’s perfect. I’m just gonna take a quick shower first and then we can go.” In not too long they were both dressed and in the back of the Rolls Royce. Eduardo, Adrian’s driver-slash-bodyguard, didn’t comment on seeing them both exit Adrian’s apartment in the morning. He simply walked ahead of them and made polite small talk in the elevator. It didn’t take long to get to the cafe.

“Sypha,” Adrian greeted, smiling at his little girlfriend who came running to greet him, giving him a kiss on the lips. She was in another cute miniskirt, this time in pale purple. And a baby tee that said ‘People of Quality Don’t Fear Equality’ in cursive black letters. Needless to say, she was effortlessly cute and Adrian gave her another kiss because he couldn't resist. 

“Hey, Sypha,” Trevor greeted, kind of awkwardly. He felt weird watching them kiss in the entryway of a cafe. Truth be told, he felt kinda weird when they kissed at all. She immediately gave him a hug, her much smaller body wrapping around him tightly. “Okay,” he huffed, “alright, Sypha.” She let him go.

“Are you okay?” She asked, blue eyes searching his. She had said it quietly, but Trevor didn’t get into personal stuff in public, so he just nodded.

“Yeah. Fine. Let’s get a table.”

After ordering and sitting at a small table in the back, Sypha jumped right into it.

“I’m sorry I’ve been distant the past week, or, the past few days, I guess. I’ve had some papers due. I just turned in my last one yesterday. So now I’m free. Except, guess what?” she laughed, “I’m not even staying. I’m leaving today.”

“What?” Trevor and Adrian both asked at the same time. She sighed, steeping her teabag.

“My grandpa says he misses me too much. He wants to see me. Surprised me with a flight. And everyone else back home misses me. So I'm going. I have to pack soon. I’m leaving at eight. Well, the flight’s at six, so I’ll have to get there at like five or earlier. I’m sorry,” she apologized, seeing the clear disappointment on their faces. “I really am. I wanted to hang out with you both.”

Trevor took a sip of coffee while Adrian reached over to hold her hand. Trevor’s eyes fell there, catching the glittering diamond-encrusted ring Adrian had on his pretty hand. 

“It’s okay. I’m glad you get to see your family and everything. How long are you gone for?” Sypha played with a plastic heart earring, looking between them with a disappointed expression. _She’s so fucking cute... God._

“Two weeks. All of Spring Break. I can try to convince my grandpa to let me come back early, but I don’t know if he will. He really misses me.”

“I understand,” Adrian nodded, ever the understanding boyfriend, “it’s good to spend time with him. We’ll be here when you get back.”

“And we can Facetime,” Trevor chimed in, lost in her big blue eyes and pouty lips. She nodded.

“Yeah. We can.” It was obvious she was a little sad about it herself from the way she picked at her muffin with disinterest, lips twitching in annoyance. The cafe sounds were the only ones for a moment and the three were silent.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Adrian spoke up, “Why don’t we come out and visit you? My family has a house in L.A. We can meet up.” 

“Wow!” Sypha was shocked to hear that. Of course, last-minute plane tickets weren’t a problem for Adrian. Or housing. 

“Does that sound okay, Trevor?” Adrian looked back, gaging his expression. Trevor made a face that said he didn’t mind.

“Okay. I guess- it would be cool to go to California. See Sypha’s house, meet her grandpa. Where is your family’s house in L.A.?” He asked.

“Bel Air," Adrian answered. Trevor snorted and Sypha started chuckling. _Rich boy._

“Of course it is.” Bel Air was notoriously snooty. The promised land for American billionaires. 

“We’re actually in Topanga, which is on the same side of L.A., so it’s fine. Shouldn’t be that hard for you to get to our house.” Sypha’s family lived in one of the last true hippie communities in Los Angeles.

“Well, there is one thing, actually. My grandpa is holding these courses this week,” she faltered, trying to explain, “they’re like breathing and meditation courses, with some lectures on spirituality and stuff. Crystal healing. That sort of thing. So he’s going to be busy with that, and I’m gonna be helping him. But I’m sure I could meet up with you guys at some point. It just, it might be only like one day or something. Lemme,” she sifted through her hobo bag, looking for her iPhone, “Lemme just call my grandpa and ask him when I’ll have time. Okay?” 

“Sure.” Adrian took a bite of his oatmeal. She stepped out to make the call while the boys ate breakfast.

“What is your house like in Bel Air?” Trevor asked, a smirk playing on his face. He could only imagine. Adrian smiled at his knowing expression, chuckling under his breath and taking a sip of coffee.

“It’s… Californian.” Trevor started laughing. He couldn’t believe he knew someone who had what he could only guess was a mega-mansion in Bel Air. _Jesus._ Sypha came back smiling.

“So he said that we’re going to be busy until Thursday. But I have Friday and Saturday free, so if you can find a flight, then we can hang out!” She jumped for joy literally, bouncing as she always did when she was excited. Adrian smiled at her.

“Absolutely. We’ll come and see you.” He gave her a kiss on the lips and then reclined back in his seat, cool as a cucumber. Trevor glanced at his gold Rolex for a minute, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. _And I’m going with him. Both of them. This is gonna be weird._

“Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Here I come.”

Sypha and Adrian laughed at his joke and the blonde swatted his leg.

“No, come on. None of that. We can go to Topanga and see how the hippies live.”

“It’s great,” Sypha beamed, wiggling in her seat, “I wear a headband down sometimes, like this,” she gestured to her forehead, “And smoke pot. And I drive a Volvo bug.” 

“No, way,” Adrian chuckled, “seriously?” 

“Yeah! Well, it’s not mine, it’s the group’s. But I can drive it sometimes. I have my license. I took it to the drive-in movie theater last summer. And the beach.”

“Wow,” Trevor sighed, “L.A. is really different from New York, huh?” He took a long sip of black coffee and idly wondered if there was even going to be any black coffee in L.A.

_Maybe they all drink green smoothies and tea. God that sounds terrible._

“It definitely is. Some parts of it are really,” she paused, outwardly cringing, “superficial. Like, very very superficial. But there are nice parts too, where people are more genuine. Everyone goes hiking. It’s different.”

“Yeah…” Adrian drifted off, remembering all the fake tanned, bleach blondes that were always walking around, gripping a green juice, and heading to a yoga class.

“So, how often do you go to L.A.?” Sypha asked him.

“Not often. I prefer New York or Europe. Or Colorado, when we go skiing.” 

“So, we’re going on Friday? For sure?” Trevor confirmed.

“Yeah, let’s do it. I’ll get us a flight later. For now, I think we should tell Sypha everything that’s going on. I mean,” he turned to her, “I told you the gist over the phone but there’s a lot more. I feel like we should tell you everything that happened.”

“Okay,” she nodded, “go ahead.” 

The next hour was spent explaining everything that had happened with Adrian’s family, and the tabloids, and with Trevor’s old friends, and finally, how they felt about it all. In the end, they were all relieved to have it out in the open. Trevor knew Sypha would have to know that Adrian was paying for his schooling because he was going to drop out of hockey, so he just bore the guilt. She never would judge him for accepting Adrian’s money. No one would, probably, but he still hated for people to know about it. It had been better before when he could say that he won a full ride. That felt better. _But I can’t be on the team anymore. They’re all just rat bastards. Pieces of shit. Who cares what they think?_

“That’s… amazing," Sypha sighed, "Really. I’m so glad this is going to work out. But, Trevor, are you sure you’re feeling okay about everything? After what happened with your team?”

He looked at her and then back at the coffee in his hands, and then he nodded.

“It’s - it’s disappointing. But,” he made a face, “it is what it is. I don’t know. They’re assholes. Screw them.”

“Yeah! Screw them,” she agreed with him, “you have us, anyway. And we love you for who you are.” That word made Trevor snap to look at her. She only smiled. He knew she just meant love like friends but with their complicated situation, it confused him a bit. He let it go.

“Thanks.”

“When are you going to actually do it?” She looked between the two of them, leaning forward on the table, her short strawberry blonde hair swaying a little. Trevor got lost again, staring at her. She was so beautiful. _Ugh._ _I love her little freckles._

“Ah, today,” Adrian shrugged, “I’ll take care of the bills, and then I’ll help move him out. I can store his things. It'll be fine.”

“Do you want my help?”

“No, no,” Trevor shook his head, “you have to pack. And I don’t have many things, anyway. You know that Sypha. You’re good. Just pack for Cali.”

“Okay. Well, call me if you need me,” she leaned forward to give Adrian a quick kiss, “I’ll see you boys on Friday, then.” On her way out the door she actually turned over her shoulder and winked. 

“Bye!”

"What did we just get ourselves into?" Trevor groaned, and they both laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please comment. Tell me what you think!


	25. Moving On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor leaves his old life behind and starts a new one with Adrian.

**A/N: I just want to say thank you for reading this story <3 Enjoy!**

* * *

Trevor's Apartment:

https://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/1-Capron-St-UN404_Rochester_NY_14607_M38922-11172

* * *

“Hey, Trevor will you log into your school account please?” Adrian asked once they had gotten back to his apartment, taking out his laptop and putting it on the counter. Trevor walked over to the sleek CTC computer and blinked, seeing what was on the screen. It was the pay portal, something he had never interacted with because he was on a full-ride sports scholarship. A feeling of shock struck him immediately.

“You’re really gonna do this?” He asked, looking over at Adrian with slight disbelief. The blonde smiled and sat on a barstool, nodding his head gently. 

“Mhmm,” he answered casually, like he was going to buy him a sweater. Trevor took a deep breath and started to log in, but he stopped himself partway. Something, perhaps inherent Catholic or familial guilt, pulled him away, made him stop.

“This isn’t like,” he made a funny face, “like a pact with the devil, right?”

“What?” Adrian laughed, almost spitting out the iced coffee he was drinking. “What the hell does that mean?” Trevor rubbed his face.

“Like, you’re not expecting something from me, right? There’s really nothing- no strings attached?” He just had to make sure. It was an insane thing to let someone do anyway. 

“Yes,” he chuckled, “It’s fine. No strings attached, no stipulations. No tricks. Do you want me to draw up a contract or something?” Trevor scoffed, waving his hand.

“Nah, it’s fine. I just, I find it hard to trust people, you know that,” he stopped again, this time on his password, “And the money is really yours, right? Not your dad’s?”

“It’s really mine. Here, I’ll show you,” Adrian offered, opening up another tab and going to his stock portfolio, “See? Here are the stocks I own, and the ones I’ve sold. Profits.” Trevor didn’t really understand stock portfolios but he saw Adrian’s name and a bunch of numbers, so he let it go. _I need to do this._

“Alright. Well, ahh, okay then.” He finished logging in and handed the computer over to Adrian, who effortlessly clicked on ‘Make a Payment’ and added a credit card, the information already popping up. He pressed ‘Finalize Payment’ and leaned back. It took all of two seconds. Then he turned the laptop around and let Trevor take a look.

“Okay, it’s done!” He smiled, looked at Trevor, and then reached for his ice coffee like it was nothing. Trevor stepped in, right next to him, so he could look at the screen. _Account balance: $118, 975._

“ _Jesus H. Christ_ … is that for real?” It was hard to comprehend the numbers on the screen. 

“Yeah,” Adrian answered, slurping up the last of his ice coffee, “It’s all there. Everything you need for the rest of school. You can just leave it, I think, and never lift a finger. The school will take what they need each semester from the balance. I calculated it so you would have enough for everything. Fees, tuition, etc. No room and board because you won’t be living in the dorms anymore. But if you want to go back to the dorms, like if you want to get a single or something next semester, just let me know and I can add more money to the account. I think it’s $17,000 for room and board, but that’s for a double. I don’t know how much a single is. Do you think you’ll want to move back into the dorms next semester?” When Trevor was too stunned to answer, Adrian continued on, fueled by his second ice coffee, and talking very quickly.

“If I were you I’d get an apartment. We can go looking today. I know there is this nice building by school, walking distance to everything. I looked at apartments in that building. It was pretty nice. New construction, that sort of thing. I kinda figured you don’t want to live in my building, because it’s my dad’s building, really, and you have your whole big hatred thing for him, so, you know, you can live elsewhere. Or, if you can get past that, you can live in the building. It would be super easy. You could live on the next floor down. I know there are some empty apartments. This is a really great building. Or, you know, you can crash with me until you figure out what you wanna do. There’s a gym and a pool in the building. I can cook, so that’s good for you. I can drive. And my driver will be here to take you anywhere. You’re all set, really. Or, again, we can go out today and sign you a lease at an apartment. If you want, you can take out the lease in your own name, and I can be your guarantor, and I can just give you the rent money every month, and then you can pay it and build your credit score or whatever. Or I can just buy a place upfront. That would be easier, and I can give it to you outright, but then you’re not building up credit. I don’t know if that’s important to you. Is it?” Adrian stopped his rambling and looked over at Trevor’s blank, outrageous, deer-in-headlights expression.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m talking too much. I’m highly caffeinated, that’s all,” the blonde laughed, playing with some of his hair in embarrassment. He pushed his iced coffee away.

“You just paid for the rest of my college degree. Over a hundred thousand dollars. And now you’re talking about buying me an apartment? Like, three seconds later?” He was flabbergasted and sat down because it was all too much. Adrian rubbed his thigh.

“Yeah. You can think about it. I guess it’s a big decision for you. Where you wanna live. You know, there's no pressure. If you move into a place and then decide you wanna leave, or stay here, or go back to the dorms, I don’t care. It’s not like any final, serious decision. I just thought, because you’re on your own for the first time, that maybe you’d like to, you know,” he gestured with his hands, “get out there. Have some independence. Your own place. And if I gave it to you then you could sell it when you wanna move, have something to put towards another place.” Trevor blinked at him, and then he turned his head and looked at the sparkly kitchen counter, mouth agape. Adrian laughed. 

“What? Too much for the morning?”

“Ah,” Trevor paused, giving him a look, “Yeah. Well, I mean, _geez. Thank you._ I just… I don’t know… how I could accept so much from you. That’s _insane_.”

“ _It’s insane?_ ” Adrian scoffed, “I care about you. I don’t want you to ever have to think about being homeless ever again. The amount of money it would take to keep you from being homeless is like a drop in the bucket for me. Don’t you understand that? It’s not like it’s a personal hardship for me. It’s just something I should do for you, and I know you don't really like it being this way, but it would give you a safety net, no matter what happens, and then we would never have to talk about this again.” Trevor considered that, looking to his left and taking in Adrian’s appearance while he pondered the offer. Gold Cartier rings, white cashmere turtleneck, Saint Laurent jeans. He gulped. _If I do this, if I get it out of the way now, he’s right… I would be set. I would never worry about being homeless again, even if we do break up. We’re not even dating yet, but- if we broke up, I would still own the apartment. I could sell it. It would be… it would be enough. I’d never have to worry about ending up back on the streets, even if I lose my job. And I’ll probably get fired at least once. I’d never have to worry about that. I’d still have a place… ahh, I need to do it. It’s just like- ripping off a bandaid. Yeah, just like ripping off a bandaid. Don’t be embarrassed. Fuck._

“Okay,” Trevor heard himself say, and then he sighed, “Okay. Let’s do it. If you’re serious. I… I would be so thankful. You would never even know.” He hated hearing the words come out of his mouth, in a way, because he wished he was never in such a position in the first place. But he realized that if he did this, he would never have to be destitute and homeless ever again. He would have a place to go. He would have money. And with his debt cleared, freedom. Peace of mind. Financial stability. It was worth the passing feeling of socioeconomic shame. 

“ _That’s great!_ Perfect,” Adrian beamed, so happy that he had agreed to it, “Okay, let’s go. Do you wanna go? I have a lot of energy right now.” Trevor looked at him, so obviously overjoyed that everything was working out. He wanted to laugh but he supposed it wasn’t funny. Adrian was really saving his life, in a way. No one else supported him as Adrian did. No one else really could. He shouldn’t be reluctant. He should be totally grateful, Trevor knew that. But it was hard in a way, especially because of Adrian’s family. It was still Tepes money. It was still tainted in his mind, a little bit, because of its origin. Obviously, Adrian had gotten his seed money from his father, the initial funds to start investing. But Trevor forced that out of mind. _It’s Adrian’s money. He’s doing this to help me. No other reason. Stop thinking like that._

“Yeah. Okay. Let’s go look at this place.”

“Great,” Adrian jumped a little on his heels, definitely high on caffeine, and he kissed Trevor quickly on the cheek. There was positive energy coming off of him in waves, which Trevor was never used to seeing. It made him seem much gayer than usual. They met up with Eduardo, went down to the parking garage, and got into the Rolls Royce. When Trevor was buckling himself in he felt odd, like he was living out someone else's life. The plush leather under his hands, the new car smell still lingering, mixing with Adrian’s cologne. It was much too hard for him to comprehend the idea of what they were doing. He just sat there in silence while Adrian went on his phone.

“I’m texting this realtor I know. I found his contact. His name is Brad something. I don’t know.” Adrian tapped away at his screen, getting everything arranged so the realtor would meet up with them. Trevor took a deep breath and pushed himself back against the black leather seat.

“Okay,” he whispered, feeling deep in over his head. The whole way there he could do nothing but think. Think about the future, the past, and how it had felt like he had been swimming against a vicious tide for so many years, abandoned, trying not to drown. Screaming out in anger that God didn’t care. And then suddenly, years later, a man had come along in a boat and saved him, cast the life raft out, and pulled him out of the sea. It reminded him of the previous night when he had showed up at Adrian’s door, literally dripping all over the place. Before he could help it, a laugh erupted from his lips. Adrian turned to look at him.

“What?” He asked in confusion. Trevor was laughing at nothing.

“I’m just thinking - how crazy this all is,” he answered. 

“Oh,” Adrian huffed, “Well, yeah. I guess for you. But it’s good. Right? Things are working out. You’re going to be fine. In a few days, you’ll have your own place.”

Trevor felt a hand come over and grasp his, threading fingers through his own. Adrian’s hand. Soft, manicured, decorated with gold. Long, thin fingers. His own hand was larger and rougher, lacking in refinement and outward beauty. He grasped Adrian’s back, anyway. It didn’t matter, he supposed, that they were different in so many ways. It didn’t really matter. Life was offering him this blessing, and he wasn’t going to screw it up like he did in almost every other facet of his life.

“Wait, actually, he says that building is full but there is a condo on the market that’s perfect. Four bedrooms, right downtown. Let’s go check it out! It’s at 1 Capron St Unit. Unit 404. Got that?”

“Yes. Let me put it into the GPS here,” Eduardo muttered, entering the address when they were stopped at a red light. He didn’t ask questions. He just did as he was told. 

“Are you excited?” Adrian asked, squeezing his hand. Trevor blinked, nodding. He was in shock still, and he could barely think. Everything was happening quickly. One minute he was thinking about sleeping on Sypha’s floor for the rest of the semester to get away from his horrible roommate, and the next he was getting a condo, paid in full by his new lover. Very new. They had only had sex once, and here Adrian was, buying him a place. He supposed that wasn’t what mattered. Adrian was buying it because he cared about him.

“Sure,” Trevor exhaled, blinking rapidly, “Wait,” he stopped Adrian, “isn’t Sypha going to be jealous about this? Isn’t she going to be mad that you’re,” he whispered, “buying me an apartment?” Adrian scowled a bit.

“Well, she shouldn’t be. She’s not the jealous type. And if she wants an apartment,” Adrian whispered back to him, “I’ll just buy her an apartment.” Trevor turned away, unable to fathom what it would be like to have so much money at his fingertips. The world was his oyster.

“Okay.”

“We’re here,” Eduardo alerted them, pulling up in front of the buildings. There were two brick apartment buildings, one bare, and one painted black. They featured two different restaurants below, an American gastropub and a bar. It was a pleasant street in the downtown area, nearby everything in the modest city of Rochester. Trevor unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car, looking up at the place. It was nice.

“Hi!” A thin man in a blue blazer approached them, shaking Adrian’s hand, “Nice to see you again. How are you?”

“Good, and you?” Adrian squinted to look past him at the building. 

“Wonderful. Why don’t you all come on inside and have a look? This place just went on the market. It’s a great condo. All modern, refurbished. It’s four bedrooms, two baths, here, come on in,” he led them in the hallway and into the elevator. In a few seconds, they were entering the apartment. Trevor felt like he was in a dream. Something perfectly mundane to someone like Adrian felt like a fairy tale to him. _Wow. This place is great._

“It’s all updated, as you can see. Big kitchen, new stainless steel appliances, dishwasher, nice bar seating there. You could have like five or six people at that bar.” Trevor walked around silently, looking at the space. The kitchen was large, with a tall window and tons of counter space. A huge island, lots of cabinets. Dark brown and grey tones with white countertops. A steel fridge. Past the kitchen was a dining area and a living room with a good amount of natural light. The whole apartment was industrial-style, with exposed ceilings, vents, and brick walls. There was a lot of exposed brick. Trevor loved it. He thought it looked masculine and modern. Even better than a condo he could imagine himself buying years down the road. Truth be told, he rarely thought that far ahead. He didn’t even know what he wanted to do for a career.

“This is the door to the balcony. It’s a very good size, go on out there,” Brad told them, and they stepped out. “You can entertain out there.”

“It’s great. Do you like it?” Adrian asked, stepping out onto the large hardwood balcony. “You could put some chairs here. A table.”

“It’s - amazing.” He looked over the parking lots with a heart full of budding optimism and hope. The modest Rochester skyline was visible on the left. He imagined it would be pretty to look at at night. “It’s so cool. I love it.”

“Great. Come on, let’s see the rest.”

They toured the rest of the space: two bedrooms and two bathrooms on the first floor. Two more upstairs. All modern and spacious, with brand new cabinetry and pot lighting in the ceiling. 

“It’s perfect,” he sighed, walking around before turning back to Adrian, “No frills, no fancy shit. Just good solid bones. Nice clean lines. I love it.” It was a dream apartment for Trevor. Everything he could ever want. He wasn’t a person who dreamed of having huge mansions or anything like that. All he really wanted were some walls and a kitchen. It was more than enough. It was perfect. Adrian smiled as he watched Trevor walk around the place in a daze.

“There’s central heating and AC. Internet and satellite are available. And you can go on the roof in this building, but it already has the balcony, so you can just go out there. Pets are allowed. No smoking, but if you’re a smoker, you can just use the balcony.”

“Are there any issues with the building or the unit?” Adrian asked.

“Ah, no, not any that I’m aware of. No pests or other issues.”

“We’ll take it,” he told the realtor, who looked at him in slight shock. They had only been in the apartment for a few minutes. He hadn’t even finished his spiel. _Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. This can’t be happening._ Trevor’s heart beat faster and faster.

“Oh? Great! You’re sure you don’t want to see anymore?”

“Do you have anything better than this in the downtown area, walking distance to school?” He asked, and the realtor shook his head ‘no’.

“Then we’ll take it. Or, I’ll take it. I’m buying the condo, but it’s for him. Can you arrange that? He’ll have the title to the condo.” Adrian wasn’t shy about any of it, and Brad just pursed his lips and nodded, not choosing to ask any questions himself. 

“Sure! Ah, absolutely. I can get that paperwork over to you first thing. Today, in fact. This afternoon. Can you do a wire transfer, then?” 

“Yeah, that’s fine. Trevor, you’re happy with this place, right?” He looked back to confirm with Trevor, who nodded quickly. _Jesus Christ. This is really happening. I can’t believe it. I’m getting my own place. Oh my god._ He found it hard to swallow and breathe all at once. His fingers twitched. It had been like twenty minutes since he decided to do this, and then it was already done.

“Then, yeah- let’s do it. I’ll send the wire transfer this afternoon, just give me all the info, okay? And make sure there’s info for him about the building, any rules or things like that.”

“You got it. Let me just go down to the office and you can come by to sign a few things later. I’ll call you when things are ready, okay? And I’ll give you the keys, of course.” With that, he left, leaving the two of them in the apartment alone. 

“Holy shit. Are you seriously buying me this place?” He couldn’t believe the words. His fingers and hands were shaking. Adrian walked over to him, smiling brightly, golden eyes gleaming.

“Yes. Are you happy?” He asked, wrapping his arms around Trevor’s neck. Trevor grabbed his waist, looking at the beautiful man and kissing him without another thought. Adrian giggled in joy, leaning in to give him several soft, sweet kisses. Trevor’s whole body was thrumming with energy and excitement, and then, suddenly, he was crying. He didn’t even mean to, he didn’t know he was crying, but the tears came running down his cheeks. He grabbed Adrian tightly and wished he never had to let go.

“Hey,” Adrian murmured into his neck, “Wha- are you okay? Why are you crying?” He pulled back to look into Trevor’s eyes, already wet with tears. “Are you just really happy?” 

“Yeah,” Trevor answered, a choked, tearful sound, and then he started to cry once more, silently. The tears just came on their own accord. Adrian just held him, stroking his back and his short hair. Laying kisses to his neck. 

“Everything is going to be okay. Just like I told you. You’re fine.” He kissed Trevor’s stubborn, wide lips. “You’re fine.”

* * *

After signing everything and getting the keys, they went back to Adrian’s apartment. They had picked up Chipotle on the way back. Trevor sat at a stool and dug into his burrito as Adrian got himself some sparkling water, moving around the kitchen.

“ _Sooo_ , how do you want your place furnished? I can do all of it. Arrange everything. Or you can do that, I guess. Whatever you want.” 

_I can’t pay for anything. Except maybe a trash can._

“Ah, you can do it. I trust you.”

“Okay.” That seemed to make Adrian happy, “What kind of style do you want? What colors?” Trevor never thought someone would be asking him such questions, and he had never prepared for it. 

“Uh, I’m not sure. I like… I guess I like black and white.”

“Oh, perfect. That’s on-trend right now, anyway. What kind of style, though? Traditional, contemporary, modern, industrial, eclectic, European?” Trevor scowled as he chewed, shrugging.

“Uh, I don’t know what those really mean.” So, after lunch, Adrian pulled out a couple of interior design magazines and websites with him until he could figure out what Trevor liked.

“Alright. I’ve got it. It’s like modern, sort of mid-century, solid colors. Masculine. Lots of black and white.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. And gold. Blue. Dark green. Those kinds of colors.” He still couldn't believe Adrian was doing this. But it seemed like he was just having fun. None of it was a financial burden to him. He couldn't even have a financial burden.

“Got it. How about black and white with like an indigo deep blue for accents? And leather for the couches. Pillowtop for the beds.” Trevor almost wanted to say that he would be fine sleeping on a sleeping bag on the floor, but he supposed he was past that.

“Sure.”

“I’ll put together an order! _Yay_ ,” he delighted, giving Trevor a squeeze around his middle. “I’m so happy this is all working out. You’re going to love having your own place. But it will take a while for everything to get there, you know. It takes a couple weeks usually.”

“That’s fine. I don’t mind staying with you. It’s really nice.” Adrian smiled and gave Trevor another kiss. Then he settled in Trevor’s arms, resting his head on his muscular shoulder.

“Is your caffeine high finally wearing off?” He laughed, nuzzling his nose into Adrian’s golden head. His shampoo smelled lovely.

“Yeah, I think so. Ah, it was great, though.” They chuckled a little. 

“I still can’t believe you got me an apartment. I have the keys and everything… _wow_. I can’t wait for the furniture to get here.”

“Mhmm. I bet,” he smiled, kissing Trevor quickly, “I can get everything done tomorrow. The major furniture you’ll need. Hopefully, it will get here in a week or so. After we get back from California, maybe. But, wait, don’t you still need to move the stuff out of your dorm room? And let your RA know you’ve left? And, did you even quit your team yet?”

“Ah, no. Haven’t told them. Either of them. I guess I should get that done too.”

“Yeah, definitely,” Adrian nodded, brushing some golden blonde hair over his shoulder, not unlike a Malibu Barbie, “And we can go get your dorm stuff. So you can kind of get it all done today.”

A while later, they were seated together at the couch, Trevor’s busted old iPhone laying between them.

“Alright. Let me just- call my coach, I guess,” he sighed, feeling nervous already. 

“I’m here for you. Just tell the truth.” After a minute of building up the courage, Trevor called his coach. Each ring was like agony, and Trevor secretly hoped his coach wouldn’t pick up. And he didn’t. The phone rang seven times, and then it went to voicemail.

“Hi. You’ve reached Mark Thorson. Leave me a message.”

“Uh, hi, coach,” Trevor took in a labored breath, trying to summon inner fortitude, “This is Trevor. Obviously you know why I’m quitting. There was a lot of… homophobic stuff that went down last weekend, and the team sort of - cut me off. Because I’m not straight. I’m,” it was terribly, horribly hard to get the words out, to tell his coach, to raise his voice and speak, but he did, “bisexual. And the team trashed me online for it. Anyway, erm, I’m quitting. Today. Screw them. I’m not going to deal with that shit. So, I’ll drop off my jersey outside your office. Don’t call me back.” He hung up the phone and let out a breath that he had been holding in, feeling a huge relief come over him. Adrian smiled and hugged him in a blur.

“That was awesome. I’m so proud of you. You did it. Now your RA. Tell her the truth, too.”

“I’m going to block him now. Will he still hear the voicemail?” Trevor wondered about that. Adrian bit his lip.

“Send him a text just in case. That will save for sure.”

[Coach Mark]

Trevor (3:57 pm) I’m quitting. You know why. This team is homophobic and I’m not going to put up with that. And don’t reply, I’m blocking you along with the rest of the team.

[Block caller: Coach Mark]

[Blocked caller]

“Ahh,” he sighed again, another relief, “I did it.” He blocked his teammates next.

“Now your RA. But don’t block her.”

“Uh, I’ll do it after I get my stuff. I don’t want her to walk into the dorm and create a big scene, you know? That would be a clusterfuck.” 

“Yeah, I get it. Well, let’s get some bins and stuff to put everything in. Come in the laundry room with me,” he guided Trevor into his laundry room and storage room. They took all the throw blankets and pillows out of a huge soft woven laundry basket and put that in the hallway, followed by two clear storage tubs.

“I think that’s plenty. I don’t have a ton of stuff,” he put the clear bins inside the laundry bin. Adrian stepped in front of him.

“Ugh, so, here’s the thing. I can’t go anywhere without my bodyguard right now. Not allowed. Some idiots actually made threats online… because they found out I’m bi. Let’s just, hah,” he sighed, hating that he had to do everything with his bodyguard, “Whatever. I have to get used to it. It was a condition with my dad that if he was going to leave me alone for a while, I had to take him with me everywhere for protection.”

“It’s fine. I get it.” Trevor understood wanting protection from crazy freaks who threatened him on the internet. The world was a dangerous place. But much less so with an armed bodyguard at the ready.

“Eduardo? Hi. I need to go to the college dorms. My boyfriend,” he paused at that, realizing he had said it completely accidentally and in a rush, eyes going wide, “needs to move out of his dorm. Can you pull the car around?” He looked back at Trevor, fully embarrassed.

“ _I’m so sorry_. It just came out. I didn’t even mean to, I was just-” Trevor stopped him.

“It’s okay. It’s fine. It’s actually…” Trevor almost blushed through his stubble, “Maybe I’ll like it. We’ll see.”

“Okay. You’re not mad? I really didn’t mean to.”

“Of course I’m not mad. Don’t worry about it.”

_No one’s ever called me that before... it's kinda nice._

“Alright then, uh, let’s go.” They walked out of the apartment and went down the elevator to the garage in the basement. Trevor stepped out, laundry bins in hand, confused as they walked into the large, clean basement garage. Eduardo was waiting, perfectly dressed as always. He was popping the trunk. They put everything inside and drove to the dorms. Trevor was vaguely nervous the whole way over, and not in a good way. He hated his roommate. When they pulled up in front of the building, he almost didn’t want to get out.

“Do you want me to come up with you?” Adrian wanted to help him with everything he was doing. Leaving his old toxic life behind and forging a new one. It felt like a continuation of what he had been doing himself. He wanted so badly to pass that same feeling of internal freedom on to Trevor. 

“Sure, I guess. People already know we’re sleeping together, so, whatever. Come on up.”

“Alright.” Adrian helped Trevor with the bins and they signed in before going up to his room. When they went inside, Trevor’s roommate was sitting at his desk with his headphones on, facing the other way, silent treatment still intact. So they just walked in and started to pack up Trevor’s stuff. Tom didn’t even look over at them or say a word. Trevor and Adrian packed his things quietly and put them into the bins. They took everything out of the drawers. Shirts, pants, underwear, socks, hoodies, jerseys, jockstraps, shoes. Books, laptop, cords. Trevor threw away his grimy bathroom stuff. Adrian threw out the rest of the garbage, a menial task he would only ever do for Trevor or Sypha. After twenty minutes or so, they were done. Trevor took his posters down off the wall and threw them away. He stripped the mattress and put the bedclothes in a basket. It was strange because Trevor didn’t know what Tom would say if he turned around, but he decided he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. He could finally say ‘screw you’ and move on. 

“Is that it?” Adrian asked. Trevor nodded and picked up the two clear bins filled with his belongings. 

“Yeah, can you take the big basket by yourself?” The large woven laundry basket had all of Trevor’s clothing in it. Adrian nodded and Trevor left the room. When he turned around to grab the basket, Adrian noticed that Tom was finally looking at him, confused to see the gorgeous blonde man in their room. Adrian saw him putting two-and-two together, realizing that Trevor was moving out. Everything was gone. It was a look of pure shock. He had been so invested in his refusal to acknowledge Trevor’s existence that he didn’t even realize he was leaving. Adrian couldn’t help himself and, feeling newfound courage within himself, he put the basket down for a moment and flipped him off, right to his face. Tom’s eyes went wide and then he scowled, taken aback by the display. He pulled off his headphones. Adrian’s eyes narrowed, picking up the basket again and glaring daggers.

“ _Fuck. Off._ ” Then he turned and left without another word. When he went back downstairs Trevor was waiting in the entrance hall. There was a smile on Adrian’s face and he couldn't get rid of it.

“Did you get it all?”

“Yup.”

“Why are you smiling?” He scowled at Adrian's mischievous expression.

“Nevermind.” He was starting to giggle. Trevor looked back at the elevator.

“Maybe I should go back upstairs and double-check.”

“No, don’t do that. Let’s go,” he walked out the door, urging Trevor to follow. He was laughing and Trevor didn’t know why.

“ _What?_ Why not?” Trevor asked, watching Adrian stuff the big basket into his luxurious car. The blonde sort of smirked and went in the back seat.

“Get in.” Trevor sat beside him, closing the car door, looking over to Adrian in confusion. 

“What happened?”

Adrian smiled fully, an impish twinkle in his golden eyes.

“I told him fuck off. Literally. To his face.”

“No you didn’t,” Trevor laughed in disbelief, but he was pleased. Adrian chuckled and buckled his seatbelt. Eduardo didn’t comment, he never did, he just started the car and drove off.

“Yeah, I did,” he leaned over and kissed Trevor’s beautiful, scowling mouth, not caring if the driver could see. Trevor kept on laughing, buckling in as they drove away.

“Wow. That’s,” Trevor didn’t know how to answer, “Thank you.”

“Of course, Trev. I’d say fuck off to anyone for you.”

Trevor blushed and gave him a little push on the shoulder. _Now that’s my kind of romance._ But he still didn’t have the courage to say things like that yet, so he stayed silent.

“Alright. So, no more worrying about your homophobic fake friends. Or your coach. No more worrying about your awful roommate-”

“Worry about him badmouthing me, maybe.” That was a story he was bound to tell. His roommate moving out suddenly in the middle of the day. Dracula’s model-genius son helping him move out and saying ‘fuck you’ - his lover. It was going to spread like wildfire.

“He was already doing that.”

“I guess so.”

“Who cares? I mean, I'm sorry. I know it's hard for you. I get that. It will feel weird for a while. I remember that after cutting off all my toxic friends. But then it's good. And you're not alone. I was alone. I mean, you have me, you have Sypha. And you can make new friends. Good ones. Sypha knows some people, nice people who don’t act that asshole. And we can make new friends, just us. Trust me, Trevor, it helps to cut off toxic people. It really does. You can make better friends who really like you for you. And not with any conditions.” Trevor thought about that as they pulled away from school. It was going to feel like a strange land when he started back up again. There were going to be enemies everywhere. He briefly entertained the idea of doing online classes just to avoid everyone.

“I guess you’re right. Not like they made me really happy anyway.”

“Right! So, as I was saying, no more worrying about awful roommates, or anything like that. And no more stealing. That’s important. That’s probably my only rule if you live with me. I don’t want to have to go pick you up from jail one night.”

“Alright, alright,” Trevor groaned. “No more stealing. Even though stealing is _so fun_ ,” he dragged the words out comically, making Adrian laugh.

“ _Oh my God, you weirdo_... Tell you what, if you miss stealing so badly, you can steal things from me from time to time and I’ll chase you down and take them back.” Trevor laughed at that. 

“Deal.” They went back to Adrian’s apartment and took the stuff inside, bringing it all the way to the bedroom. Trevor found it strange to be moving in with Adrian, even if it was only temporary, and the feelings were new. But they were good. It felt like he was skipping many steps in the relationship ladder. He had never had a real relationship with anyone. In the past, he had broken up with girls within the first month of dating or been dumped. The latter happened much more often. He wondered if he had what it took to be in a real relationship, and especially in one that involved living together, even if it was only for a couple of weeks. He wondered if he could grow up enough to make it work. Trevor knew deep down that he wanted to. But Adrian lived very differently than he did. And he didn’t know how to ‘adult’ like Adrian did. 

“Alright, so this dresser can be yours for the time being... why don’t you help me take all my stuff out and put it on the bed? Then I’ll put my stuff away and you can put your clothes in.”

“Oh, no,” he stopped him, “you don’t need to do that, come on. I’ll just take one drawer somewhere, like in your closet or something. Or I can just put the bin with my clothes in it in there.” Adrian hummed, walking into his massive closet room.

“I suppose... You can put them here,” he pointed to a bare space by the wall. 

“Are you sure about this, Adrian? Me staying here- with you?”

“Yes, I am. Are you?” Trevor tried to be honest, as he thought that would be best.

“I want to try to make it work, yeah. Definitely. But I just- I’m not as grown-up. Really. I mean, I’m not like a full adult. I don’t know how to do a lot of things. And I’m not fancy like you. And I’ve never had a real relationship with anyone before.”

“Not true. You’ve been friends with Sypha for over a year.”

“Well, yeah. But I meant- you know,” he made a face, “romantic- _ly,_ ” he added, fumbling a bit. Adrian chuckled a little. 

“It’s okay. You don’t need to worry about what this is or anything. I’m not expecting anything of you really. And I know you’re overwhelmed from today. I just wanted to make sure that you were taken care of and away from those douchebags, Trevor. I wanted to make sure you were safe and… secure. None of this was to try and force you into being my boyfriend or something. You can tell me you just want to be friends. That’s perfectly fine. I already have a girlfriend. And I could get you a hotel room to stay in until your apartment is ready. If that’s what you want.”

“No, I,” he sputtered, and then collected himself, “I’d like to stay. I mean, since you’re offering. And I can just crash on the couch if you don’t want me in your bed.” He tried to seem modest and not pushy, but both of them were just running away from it, and so Adrian took Trevor’s head in his hands. He kissed him. 

“I want you in my bed.” That phrase made something _pang_ deep in Trevor’s chest, and the feeling was too much, so he broke the eye contact and simply nodded.

“Okay.”

“And I haven’t had a real relationship either. Only Sypha. And that hasn’t been for long. We can just try our best, right? Sometimes people know each other for years and they get together and it doesn’t work. It’s all just a roll of the dice. Let’s try it.”

“Okay. Let’s fucking do it.”

When they were done figuring out what to do with Trevor’s belongings, he walked over to Adrian’s massive fluffy white four-poster bed, ogling the comfortable softness and being lured in by all the comfort he would be sleeping in. Tiredness pulled on his body suddenly and he collapsed on the bed in a platfall. Adrian chuckled from the other side of the room, coming over and looking at him as he turned over in bed with an exhausted groan. His t-shirt was coming up, showing off the tanned perfection of his abdomen. Adrian wanted to push his t-shirt up further and kiss the skin there, but he didn’t. Trevor moaned in relief, stretching out like a cat in the king sized bed. He was making himself comfortable, but he was laying the bed sideways and it didn’t make sense. It was like he was too worn out to move at all.

“Want to take a nap?” Adrian suggested, his own eyelids drooping with tiredness. He could use one as well. Trevor smiled at him blearily.

“Yeah, I would. I’m beat.”

“Well, move over, get under the covers. I’ll join you in a minute. I want to set an alarm so we don’t sleep too late.”

“Okay,” Trevor replied, a muffled sound. He had turned his face over and was suffocating himself in the plush white softness of the duvet. 

“Come on.” Adrian pushed him and he moved himself under the covers. They were both exhausted and so Adrian just curled up next to Trevor under the blanket, wrapping his arm around him. Trevor held him back, shifting in the soft sheets so he could cuddle with Adrian, humming in approval when Adrian curled a leg over his. He gently stroked Adrian’s legging clad thigh. It was easy to fall asleep. Trevor felt safe. Comfortable.

* * *

When the alarm went off, hours later, neither of them really wanted to get up, but after a few grumbles and groans, Adrian pulled himself out of bed to order food. Trevor was slower in getting to the living room, but he made it there. He found Adrian sitting at a barstool, sketching on a page in a drawing journal.

“Hey,” he greeted, rubbing his eye. The sun was going down. “Whatcha drawing?”

“A bird. In a tree.” Trevor walked around the island to take a look at it. It was indeed a bird in a tree. The background wasn’t finished, but the bird looked nice. 

“It’s good.”

“Thanks.”

“What’s that?” He wondered, pointing at the strange object in the foreground. It was a cage, but unusual in form and appearance. It was highly decorated, with swirls and fleur de lis embedded in the gold metalwork. The antique latch was open, and the door ajar.

“The birdcage.” 

Trevor smiled knowingly and felt the urge to kiss him, but he seemed hard at work so he let him continue on. It made him feel happy to see Adrian working on his hobby, though.

“I ordered food. It should be here soon. Like ten minutes or so.”

“Nice. What did you order?”

“Italian. From the really good place downtown. They opened back up.” 

“Awesome. It, er, it looks nice outside,” he murmured into a yawn, looking out at the balcony, “I think I’m gonna smoke.” 

“Hold on, I’ll join you.” He got up from the barstool and went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses. Trevor grabbed a pack and a lighter and they went outside, shutting the sliding glass doors and sitting down at the patio table. 

The sky was lovely cotton candy fluff. One puff here, another there, died blue and pink in the fading springtime sun. The warm color, almost a salmon pink hue, filtered through the pines in the distance, the whole setting a romantic venue. It was a day warm enough to sit outside without a jacket on, but just barely. Trevor had on a sweatshirt and Adrian was only wearing a loose black shirt from Saint Laurent with little white t-crosses on the fabric with leggings. Black as well. And the rings, Trevor recognized a few when he was pouring the wine and again when he was lighting up. 

“What type of ring is that?” He pointed to one he didn’t remember: a hawk’s eye stone set in silver.

“This one?” Trevor nodded. “Tom Wood.”

There was a soft wind coming over the hill and Adrian was struggling with it, so Trevor grabbed the lighter and leaned in to help him. Their eyes met and this time Trevor didn’t have to pretend not to be enamored by the glittering hazel gaze staring back at him. _No, not hazel. They’re gold. Definitely gold._

“What?” Adrian asked, the question fading into a smile. Trevor was looking at him in some type of way. 

“Do you remember that I asked, when I first met you, if your eyes were really gold?” He lit his own cigarette and Adrian laughed.

“Yeah, you asked if I was wearing contacts. You said they weren’t real.”

Trevor huffed at himself.

“Sorry for that. I said some pretty shitty stuff at the beginning.”

“Yeah. Why did you do that?” Adrian wondered, taking a sip of the red wine he had brought out. Trevor considered his profile, glowing orange in the fading sunset, the rest of his body in shadow. 

“I - well first I guess I just really hated you because of your father.”

“Oh.”

“Well, no. Actually, firstly, I had this like - euphoric sort of moment,” he blushed, taking a drag. It was hard to say out loud, but he figured it didn’t matter anymore, “where I saw you and I was just like ‘Woah, he is so fucking beautiful’ and I thought you were the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. Like a prince. And you were so, I don’t know, refined and masculine and pulled together. I was en- enamored, that’s the word.” Adrian sputtered into a laugh.

“What? Seriously? In that first coding class? When everyone was talking shit about me?”

“Before that. Before you said who your dad was. Or, the professor did. Then everyone started saying stuff about you, yeah. Or about him, I guess. Nobody knew who you were before that. And then, when I found out, I- yeah I guess I hated you… by association. Which was pretty rude, I guess,” he sighed and drank for a few moments in silence. 

“I wasn’t super nice to you either. I was kinda cold,” Adrian admitted.

“You weren’t that bad. And you were right, even if I believe your father is a horrible guy that doesn’t give me any right to judge you without knowing you first. It was just- I have so much pent up anger about what happened to my family, and what your dad did to my family, that whole thing. Tapping their phone lines, dragging our name through the mud-”

“I know, I know,” Adrian sighed, taking a long inhale from the cigarette and looking away. Then he tapped the ashes into the Ritz-Carlton ashtray he had stolen and Trevor knew he had been wrong about Adrian from the beginning.

“I was wrong. I’m sorry. I thought I knew who you would be and I was totally, completely wrong. I promise in the future I’ll give people more of a chance than that. And not be so fuckin’ judgemental.” Trevor meant it, and Adrian could see that in his eyes. 

“Okay. I get that.”

“What you’re doing for me,” he trailed off, looking at the forest beyond, thinking about it, and feeling too emotional to even finish the sentence. Adrian just cupped his cheek and turned his head, ran a hand through his hair. 

“Trevor, I know. I understand.” 

There was an intense moment between them when Adrian caught his gaze, so piercing, so emotive. It said what words could not, and then Trevor decided he had to speak. He had to tell Adrian what was on his mind. There was no need to hold back such feelings anymore, not when Adrian had proved he was real. He was trustworthy.

“I want to change myself. I want to be a better person. And… there’s nothing holding me back now. I can do it, I just have to try. Going forward.” He took a drag and Adrian scooted his chair closer so they were arm and arm. 

“What do you mean?”

“A lot of the time I’m- shitty. I act shitty. I do shitty things. I steal, I get drunk constantly, I miss things. I miss classes. I fuck around. And I don’t have anything put together. I’m nothing like you. I don’t even know where my homework is half the time. I can’t hold down a job. I can’t keep enough in my bank account to stay afloat. I can’t even work up the courage to do a lot of things that I want to do. I have to get drunk first. Like with you. I wanted you, and I didn’t do anything about it. I had to get drunk to even have the courage to _kiss_ you. It’s like I can’t control my thoughts sometimes. Like they’re too much. Anxiety about things and worrying what’ll happen.”

“Mm… Yeah. Anxiety is really hard. It is. I know.”

“I guess I don’t have any reason to be anxious anymore, though. I mean, I have an apartment. Thank you again. You paid for my degree. I don’t have to stay on the team. I don’t have to get good grades if I don’t want to. I don’t have to do anything. So I shouldn’t be so nervous anymore. I guess the only thing I’m nervous about now will be that you’re going to get sick of me or I’ll screw everything up somehow.” He regretted it as soon as he’d said it. 

“Trevor. Don’t even say that. We literally just started seeing each other. Don’t imagine it’s going to fail before it’s even begun. Please. And don’t try to invent something to worry about for no reason. We don’t have any issues right now.”

“I know. I just hope I don’t ruin this. You know,” he took a sip of wine and sighed, “I’m not like you.”

“Yeah, I know that,” Adrian chuckled, “it’s okay. I don’t want to date someone exactly like me. And I want to change, too, Trevor. I want to relax. Stop worrying so much. We both want to do that.”

“Okay.” He still seemed worried. 

“Hey, look at me,” Adrian told him, tipping up his chin, “we’re going to be okay. The world is shitty but, so what? We still have each other. You’re not alone anymore, Trevor. You have me.” It meant more than anything given what Adrian had done for him that day, and Trevor knew it was real. It wasn’t a line. He kissed him, molded himself into him. Tasted the cabernet on his lips, the smoke on his tongue. Their teeth clashed a little, fumbling to deepen the kiss. It wasn’t blissful. It was real, somehow, and Trevor loved that. He knew it was real. It wasn’t a passing fancy or a drunken night on the town. It was Adrian. They broke apart at the sound of the doorbell. 

“Oh,” Adrian huffed, winded from the sudden intense kiss, “It’s the food. I’ll get that.” He seemed caught off guard, standing and then turning around suddenly to put out his cigarette. Trevor chuckled and went inside, putting out his own and taking their wine glasses with him. Adrian tipped the man, took the bags to the counter, and unpacked them. It was warmer inside, and Trevor delighted at the smell of the food.

“I haven’t even cooked for you yet, have I? We’re just ordering takeout.”

“Adrian I’ve been here for like a day.” He put the wine glasses down on the table and helped set it for them, trying to find plates and silverware in the kitchen. 

“Forks are here. I just mean, I’m an amateur chef. It breaks my heart that you haven’t tried my food yet. I would have cooked tonight but I don’t really have any groceries. We’ll have to go out tomorrow and buy some, okay?”

“Sure. I’m looking forward to it. Damn that smells good,” Trevor hummed, watching Adrian unpack the food. “What did you get?”

“Caprese and Affettato Misto Luciano for appetizers. For you, a filet with caramelized onions and spinach. And for me, cioppino and tiramisu. But I can split with you. I’m not greedy.” 

“What’s cioppino?”

“This,” he pointed to the bowl filled to the brim with shrimp, lobster, scallops, crab legs, and mussels in a fragrant red sauce. Once they had finished serving everything, they sat down to eat. The meal was delicious, and wine flowed easily, allowing them just to sit for an hour, talking at lengths about nothing much at all. Decorating Trevor’s apartment, cooking, wine, and artists that Adrian loved. They split the tiramisu and the wine bottle at the same time. Trevor tipped the bottle and let the last few drops fall into his mouth.

“What the hell?” Adrian laughed. “Are you Dionysus?”

“Who?” He put the bottle down, swaying back in his seat. They were both already drunk. 

“The Greek god of wine.”

“Oh, yes. Wait, can I be the god of beer, too? How about all alcoholic beverages?”

“Sure.” 

“What will my god-name be, then?”

“Trevorisus.” They both started laughing, even though it wasn’t very funny. Wine made everything a little funnier. Soon they made their way to the bedroom. The mood was calm inside, with soft lamps and black and white furniture filling the space. He sat down on the bench as the kitty roamed between his feet, meowing cutely. 

“Aw, I love cats... I love cats,” he repeated, picking up the little kitty and putting her on the bench. “She’s cute.”

“You have fun with her. I’m gonna take a shower, okay?” He started unbuttoning his shirt and Trevor watched him, a smile growing on his handsome face. The toned, gentle lines of his body were soon on full display and Trevor couldn’t resist. He pushed Adrian against the wall and kissed him greedily, gripping a hand in his blonde hair, the other wandering down the smooth planes of his back and down to his ass. Adrian laughed, wrapping his arms around Trevor and kissing him back eagerly, letting him do what he wanted. He was insistent, kissing and touching Adrian’s lips and body without reservation. But Adrian broke away, tipping his head up as Trevor dotted his neck with wet kisses.

“Argh, Trevor, be patient. I want to take a shower first,” he pushed Trevor back, “I’ll be out soon. I’ll be quick. Don’t fall asleep.”

“Okay,” Trevor exhaled, stepping back and letting Adrian walk by him to the bathroom. 

“You can put on some music or something.” He hadn’t closed the bathroom door, and Trevor’s face heated up as he watched Adrian unbutton his tight pants, one by one. It was trance-like, and he gulped in sexual frustration. The blonde blushed himself and tied his hair in a messy topknot so it wouldn’t get wet, then he took off the last of his clothes and walked into the black-tile shower. 

“Did you hear me?” He chuckled, turning on the rainfall showerhead. 

“Uh, yeah, I did. Sure.” Trevor blinked out of it and walked into the bedroom, getting things set up. He was drunk, but only a little bit. It was still easy to think. He just had to ignore his boner. So he went to the mini CTC player on the dresser and picked something out, an instrumental playlist with a sultry, electronic sound. Then he stripped the bed, throwing pillows on the bench. And finally, he took off his own clothes, down to his underwear. It was then that his heart rate started to increase, and that he started getting in his head about what they were doing. What had happened. He inwardly cursed at himself for not being drunk enough, but he tried to put the thought out of his mind. Lube and condoms were difficult to find, but sure enough, he found them tucked in a bag inside the bedside table. The sound of the shower being turned off startled him, and he hopped up onto the bed. Soon Adrian came out, only a towel around his waist. He smiled bashfully upon seeing Trevor nearly nude in his bed. 

“Come here,” he whispered, pulling Adrian close and giving him a kiss, “Mh. Get up here.” He patted to his bare thighs and Adrian visibly blushed.

“On your lap?” Trevor nodded. With a shallow exhale, he dropped the towel and maneuvered his way onto Trevor’s lap, one leg on either side. They began to kiss, slowly at first, almost shyly. Trevor’s hands explored, stroked, and touched his bare skin. Adrian felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and his nipples harden. Trevor noticed, reaching a hand up to play with one, making him whimper. He began kissing down Adrian’s neck, leaving hickeys on the pale skin there, and that only made Adrian groan more. He pushed Trevor down on the bed, climbing on top of him and groaning in want as their lips and tongues moved together in a sultry dance. Trevor was the best kisser in the world, in Adrian’s mind, and it turned him on so much, just feeling his lips, his tongue, the stubble on his chin. He felt Trevor’s hands grip his hips, pressing him down. The feeling of Trevor’s hardness underneath him was almost too much to take. He actually stopped kissing him because he was too caught up in the feeling of it, and he pushed back so he could sit on top of him fully, moving his hips ever so gently at first.

“Argh,” Trevor groaned at the sight and the feeling of Adrian naked on top of him. They moved in tandem, grinding and writhing against one another, alternating between sweet, slippery kisses and harder, deeper ones. Adrian soon decided he couldn’t take any more foreplay and moved Trevor’s hand onto his aching cock. Everything was a blur after that, punctuated only by moans and touseling around in the bed. Eventually, Adrian wound up on his hands and knees, and he didn’t even remember how he got like that, but he was ready and wanting for more. 

Trevor warmed him up for a while, and Adrian was already on the brink, so when he finally slid in it was the strangest mix of intense pleasure and pain, muddled by his clouded, drunken mind. He could hear a groan from behind him, and Trevor’s large hands gripping his hips, and then another thrust of pleasure and pain. It was a strange combination.

“Are you okay?” He heard Trevor ask, leaning closer, panting lightly above him. Adrian’s face was half smushed in the bedding and he just murmured incoherently. 

“Adrian,” Trevor repeated, “are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” He brushed blonde hair out of Adrian’s face so he could see him.

“No. Just go slow. Please.” Trevor did as he asked, but it took a while for the pain to subside. Truthfully, Adrian just tried to ignore the searing sensation and hope it got better. He was just drunk enough to feel sort of numb, and that helped a little, but it still hurt. Only at the end did he start to feel something better, some deeper kind of pleasure. Trevor had flipped him over halfway through and then entered him again, very gently. Adrian tried to relax, closing his eyes, letting Trevor fuck him. Trying not to resist it. He just tried to focus on something else. The little kisses he left on his temple, the sound of his moans. He was happy at least that Trevor was enjoying himself. And eventually, pleasure did start to trump pain, but Trevor was already coming and so was he, so the experience was too short to be magnificent.

Afterward, Trevor pulled out. He cleaned them both up. Adrian looked utterly destroyed, a blush on his cheeks and his chest. They kissed again, slowly, softly, breath intermingling and foreheads resting together. 

“Adrian.” Trevor kissed his lips, his cheeks, his earlobe, and Adrian lightly whimpered underneath him again. “Are you okay? Did it hurt a lot?”

“Mm,” he just whimpered, tired and drunk and spent, “yeah. It still does.”

“I’m sorry. Fuck,” Trevor felt guilty, frowning, “why didn’t you tell me to stop?”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” he muttered, eyes closing in exhaustion, “You were gentle.”

“Now I feel bad,” Trevor admitted with a sigh, plopping down beside him on the bed. 

“No, it’s okay. I read online it always hurts the first time, even with lube and everything.”

“Yeah, I guess,” he sighed, “Still feel guilty though. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I know. It’s okay. Just turn off the lights and cuddle me.”

“Do you want anything? Do you want aspirin or something?”

“Water. Please.”

“Sure,” Trevor nodded, going into the kitchen and coming back with a bottle of water for him. Then he turned off the lights and climbed in bed beside him, frustrated with himself despite what Adrian said. That was never his intention. He leaned over Adrian's body, brushing a few hairs away from his face.

“Hey, I’m sorry I hurt you,” he repeated, and Adrian chuckled.

“I’m okay. It’s fine. You didn’t do anything wrong. Not your fault. It felt kinda good, but,” he sighed, “it hurt.”

“Fuck.” He stroked Adrian's arm in supplication.

“I’ll be fine. It’ll go away. Just - just come here. Spoon me. I’m falling asleep.”

“Okay,” he accepted, spooning Adrian and trying to find a comfortable position. He kissed Adrian’s bare shoulder, and then his neck.

“Mm.” It felt strange but wonderful to have Adrian’s bare skin touching his own. His body falling asleep beside him. He wasn’t used to that. Not at all. Adrian’s skin was softer, more supple. Trevor couldn’t help but touch him a little as they fell asleep, his arms and his thighs. He kissed his neck again, pressing his lips into the softness of him, feeling his heartbeat. It was the only sound in his room.

“You know I’d never want to hurt you, right?” His voice was so soft, but Adrian still heard him.

“I know. I trust you. Just go to sleep, Trev, everything’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

* * *

The next morning, Trevor woke more easily. He started to remember the events of the night before, drunken and blurry as they were, and sort of shot up in bed, looking for Adrian, but he wasn’t there. The white king-sized bed was empty, only rumpled bedsheets in his place. Trevor let out a breath. _Fuck. Where is he?_ Trevor rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around the room, finding it empty. But then he heard the sounds of cooking in the kitchen, sizzling bacon in a pan. And the smell of breakfast wafting under the door. So he got up, pulled a t-shirt over his head, and wandered out into the kitchen, worried that Adrian was pissed off about the night before.

“Oh,” the blonde startled, hair still messy and standing in the middle of the kitchen, holding a carton of eggs, “good morning. I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed. Didn’t think you’d wake up yet.” Adrian was an early riser. The sun had just recently come up, and birds were still chirping away in the pine trees outside. 

“I saw you weren’t there. I,” he faltered, stepping closer. Adrian put down the carton of eggs, “I’m really sorry about last night. I feel bad. If I knew it-” Adrian silenced him with a finger to his lips. He smiled.

“I’m okay, Trevor. Really. I feel better now. And you didn’t do anything wrong,” he assured him, giving him a quick kiss. “It is what it is. And I’m kind of a baby when it comes to physical pain. It wasn’t that bad. I’m just sensitive. Sometimes I cry when I get waxed.”

“Oh,” Trevor chuckled, leaning back against the counter, “Yeah I bet that hurts, too. Did you do that for me?” He vaguely remembered Adrian was bare everywhere down there. 

“No. I always get waxed. Anyway, I’m fine. Do you want coffee?” He went back to cooking and Trevor watched him move around the kitchen. He was wearing an oversized button-down sleep shirt that went down to his upper thighs and Calvin Klien underwear, nothing else. And he still had a bedhead. 

“Not yet. You look cute. I didn’t know you even could get bedhead.” 

Adrian turned over his shoulder, giving him l look.

“You weren’t supposed to see me like this. I was going to brush my hair and stuff. And bring you breakfast.” Trevor stepped forward and hugged him from behind, wrapping his arms around Adrian’s thin torso.

“I like your bedhead. And your breakfast. Bacon’s my favorite,” he almost purred, very relieved that Adrian wasn’t mad at him. And that he was making him breakfast. 

“I have to make the eggs,” Adrian laughed, trying to crack them into the pan while Trevor was still hugging him from behind, head on his shoulder. He started to laugh when Trevor nuzzled his face into his hair, burying himself in the blonde mess. 

“ _Hey!_ ” He laughed, and then he giggled because Trevor had the audacity to tickle him. They ate breakfast on the island, very leisurely, and made coffee. Adrian turned on some jazz on the CTC player.

“Chet Baker?” Trevor asked, recognizing the song, ‘I Fall in Love Too Easily’. Adrian smiled at him. 

“You’re learning.” Trevor drank some of his cappuccino. He didn’t even know people could make cappuccinos in their own house. But Adrian had one of those fancy Nespresso things that made any coffee drink you wanted.

“I listened to the playlist you made me.” That made Adrian smile even more, golden eyes twinkling with happiness.

“You did?”

“Yeah. That was sweet of you. Well, everything you do is sweet. Like waking up early to make me breakfast. Buying me an apartment after the first time we sleep together, you know, regular stuff like that” he teased, and Adrian started to chuckle. 

“It wasn’t a tip.”

“It wasn’t? Oh damn. Here I thought I was just a really, really high-class escort.”

“Oh my god,” Adrian rolled his eyes. Trevor thought about that.

“I feel like I should do something for you today. You’ve done too much. There’s an imbalance of niceness.”

“You don’t need to do anything, Trevor,” he shook his head, putting the empty plates in the sink.

“I can do the dishes! That’s something.”

“No, it’s okay, Maria is coming soon. She does all that. But we need to get dressed. It’ll be kind of awkward if you’re sitting on my barstool in your underwear when she comes in." He opened the fridge. "And you know what, I’m out of groceries. I usually have Maria go because I’m too busy, but, do you want to go today? It’ll give us something to do.”

“Uh, sure,” he shrugged, “How often does Maria come?”

“Every day. She does the dishes, cleans up, does laundry sometimes. And you know, all the cleaning. Vacuuming, trash, windows. All that stuff.” He waved his hand at the menial tasks.

“ _You pampered princess_ ,” Trevor shook his head and clicked his tongue, to which Adrian gave him an evil eye. 

“Hey. You have to say pampered prince, at least. I’m not a girl.”

“ _You pampered prince_." He corrected himself. “I can’t believe I’m dating someone who doesn’t even do their own dishes.”

“Do most people do their own dishes?” Adrian asked, looking up from his phone. Trevor blinked, eventually realizing that Adrian wasn’t joking.

“Are you serious? Ha! Hah, my God!" He guffawed, laughing.

“Okay, they do,” Adrian blushed, trying to pretend that he hadn’t asked that, “Nevermind.”

“Oh my God. I can’t believe your life. _Do most people do their own dishes?_ ” He repeated the question, laughing to himself. “Adrian, do you even know how most people live?” The blonde put down his phone and blinked, pursing his lips.

“They do their own cleaning and stuff, I guess? And laundry.”

“Yes. Most people do not have cleaners. Have you _ever_ done laundry?” His expression was comical, eyebrows raised and mouth open. Adrian rolled his eyes again.

“Yes, I’ve done laundry. I know how to do it. Geez.” Trevor chuckled.

“You live such a privileged life.” It was hard for him to imagine.

“I don’t think you have any idea how far below my station I actually live.” Adrian was just being honest, but Trevor took offense at that, in a way. 

“ _What?_ You live in a penthouse.”

Adrian scoffed.

“Yeah, but a small one. It’s only two bedrooms. And I only have two cars. And I’m exchanging the Aston Martin for a Tesla. Better for the environment. And I do my own cooking…” when Trevor just sat there with an incredulous look on his face, Adrian explained, “Most of the people I know my age live way better than I do. _Way better_ , and their dads aren't as wealthy as mine. They live in huge mega-mansions in Los Angeles and they have ten cars, and a private jet that’s just theirs, and they throw huge raging parties every weekend. Not to mention the outrageous shopping, and drugs, and the hookers.”

“ _The hookers?_ ”

“Oh yeah. My dad’s business partner’s son,” he laughed, “he has two girlfriends and a whole hoard of hookers. He fucks a different woman every night of the week. And he flies from Michigan to New York City and back every weekend and rents the most expensive hotel suites. He has a sugar baby in New York and a girlfriend in college in Michigan. And he only gets the highest class escorts. Top tier. Like, three or four thousand a night. And he’s 18. I'm like a saint compared to my peers.”

“Jesus. That’s crazy. You’re not making that up?”

“Nope. And they never do anything themselves. Nothing. Like what I did yesterday, moving you out, they would _never do that._ I did take out your trash by the way. None of the billionaire’s children that I know would ever do that. Especially no one from the East. No offense. I’m Romanian. I just mean, sometimes, like- the Russian kids are really, really spoiled. _Extremely._ Like you would never believe. A hundred times more spoiled than me. The Chinese too. And Middle Eastern. Actually, everyone’s kids are spoiled. Most of them don’t do anything besides partying and dressage. Very few go to college. Even fewer actually go to classes and turn in their papers. My dad just- he raised me differently. Neither of my parents wanted me to be like that. Not that they did such a great job raising me, but," he huffed, "Better than most, I guess. Some people don't even teach their kids to say thank you. To anyone. Maybe I’ll introduce you to someone my age like that so you can see how different I actually am from them.”

“Wow.” Trevor thought about that. 

“I mean, I’m not a monk, obviously. I buy fancy things. I go to the salon. But nothing like what they do. I don’t have a private chef. I don’t have a live-in housekeeper. Or a stud farm. Or a mansion. I live in an apartment. I don’t live like other rich kids do.”

“Apparently not… Can we get a hooker, though?” Trevor joked and Adrian glared at him.

“No. No hookers.”

“Okay I believe that you’re living below your means, I guess. Seems weird to say, but- I guess that’s true. But you still have it really good. Do you understand that?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“So, what else do you not do yourself?”

“What do you mean?” He raised a brow at that.

“You basically get everything done for you, I guess? Except for your homework and stuff?” Adrian scowled.

“Uhh, I don’t know what you mean. Yeah, I do my own homework. You’ve seen me do it.”

“But, pretty much everything else you have done by other people, I guess. Like your cleaning and your,” he gesticulated to his face, “beauty stuff.”

“Uhm, yeah. I go to the salon. Oh, do you mean like, do I cut my own hair? Is that what you mean?” He gave Trevor a look that said ‘are you serious?’

“Yeah.”

“Do I seriously look like I cut my own hair? Not counting the bedhead I have going on right now.”

“No. What do you have done? Like, regularly? I’m curious. You’re like the prettiest, shiniest guy I’ve ever seen.” Adrian snorted at him.

“Ah, I get my hair done once a week, usually.”

“ _Once a week?!_ ” Trevor scowled.

“I get it washed and conditioned, then I get a blowout. And they do my eyebrows. And I get waxed every few weeks. I usually do a massage every other week. Foot treatments. Facials.”

“Oh my God,” Trevor started to laugh, finding it hard to believe. “I can’t even imagine.”

“I guess most people don’t do that?” He took a sip of his coffee. "Even women?"

“Hah, no, Adrian, most people can’t afford that. What are they doing to your feet, anyway?” He looked down.

“I just get foot care done. You know, they push back the cuticles, cut them, file them, make sure I don’t have any calluses. I get my nails done there too. They just trim them and cut away the cuticles. Sometimes I get clear polish. Or black.”

“Wow. Here I thought they were just naturally like that.”

“What?”

“Your feet are really nice. Nicer than any guy I’ve ever seen. I thought it was just, like, they were naturally perfect,” he laughed at himself, realizing it was kind of ridiculous.

“Oh, no,” Adrian shook his head, “Thanks. But no. They’re not naturally like that.”

“Okay. They are really pretty,” Trevor muttered, looking down at his feet on the hardwood floor. Adrian started giggling.

“Do you have a foot fetish?” He whispered, eyebrows raised. They had been talking about his feet for a while.

“No,” Trevor answered loudly, making a shocked face, “No, I don’t.” Adrian leaned on the island, getting closer to him, a mischievous look in his eyes.

“What is your fetish?” He whispered.

“Mm,” Trevor hummed, lips twitching in amusement, “I don’t know if you’re ready for that yet.” He shook his head.

“Ready to know what it is?” Adrian’s eyes went wide, a little worried and also amused, “Oh God, it’s not something really freaky, is it? Like monsters or trees or something?"

“ _Trees?! Who has a tree fetish?_ ” He sputtered, laughing like crazy. Adrian laughed with him for a long time.

“This guy, on that channel where they have the show ‘My Strange Sexual Addiction’ or something? I don’t remember the name. My mom and I were watching this show-”

“What?! With your mom?”

“It’s not graphic! We were just flipping channels and we came across it. Anyway, there was this guy, and he could only have sex with trees. Like he fucked actual plants. And the woman he was dating or whatever went into the woods and found him fucking a tree that he carved a little hole into. So he could have sex with it.”

“What the fuck!” He wheezed, “That’s insane! Poor tree.”

“I know... Anyway, what’s your fetish?”

“ _Not that!_ ”

“Hah. It’s okay if it’s feet. That doesn’t freak me out or anything.”

“What?” Trevor looked at him like he was crazy.

“Is it feet? My feet? Like, you want me to give you a foot job or something?” He giggled at the thought and Trevor’s eyes went wide.

“No, it’s not feet! What the hell. A foot job… no,” he laughed, “that’s not it.”

“But you have one.”

“Mm,” Trevor hummed, wobbling his head around like he wasn’t totally sure, “Maybe. You’ll find out. You’re not ready for it. Doing it, I mean.”

“Is it spanking?” Adrian whispered, half worried and half joking. Trevor shook his head.

“No. Don’t guess. I’ll tell you later. Another time. It’s nothing freaky or gross. I promise. What’s yours?” He asked, and Adrian put down his cappuccino.

“Hey, I’m not going to tell you mine if you don’t tell me yours.”

“Okay,” he put his hands up, “Fine. We’ll discuss it later.”

“Do you have more than one?”Adrian asked, unable to stop himself from asking. Trevor did a mime for a zipper closing his lips and throwing away the key.

“Okay, okay. We should get cleaned up and get out of here. Let’s go grocery shopping.”

“Sure. Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

“Yeah.” They went into the bathroom and brushed their teeth together in front of the sink, spending a minute in companionable silence. But after a while, Trevor had a thought and spoke through the toothpaste in his mouth, not caring at all about how it looked. 

“In freshman year I dated this girl who liked to get peed on. And she really wanted me to do it, but when I tried to, I just couldn’t. Got the stage fright. So I just stood there for like five minutes while she waited and nothing ever happened.”

Adrian laughed so much he could feel toothpaste burning in his nose.

* * *

**A/N: Haha. Ahh, Trevor. I love him. Okay, please review, my loyal readers! I love you all <3 More soon!**


End file.
